


Exes and Ohs

by theladywinchester



Series: Karma Fics [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Demonic Possession, Demons, F/M, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Sam Winchester, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Original Character Death(s), Season/Series 10, Spells & Enchantments, Vessels, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 16:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11108781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladywinchester/pseuds/theladywinchester
Summary: Things are too quiet for Dean and Sam when the phone rings and brings Karma--and a case--back into their lives.





	1. Lebanon, KS

**Lebanon, KS**  

His footsteps echoed as Sam carried two plates and two beers from the bright, austere kitchen into the warm, muted library. He set one of each next to Dean and set his own down across the table from his brother. 

Dean eyed his sandwich with skepticism. “Peanut butter and jelly? Again?”

“Not my fault you forgot to go out for groceries. Again.”

Washing a bite of his sandwich down with some beer, Dean frowned at his brother. “And you couldn’t go because…?”

Sam opened his own computer. “Because it’s not my turn. Oh, and just so you know, these are our last two beers.”

That got Dean’s attention. “I’ll go out right after I finish my gourmet meal. Wouldn’t want it to get cold and ruin it.”

Snorting, Sam took a bite of his own sandwich and looked back at his screen. “I’m seeing one or two things that are a little off, but nothing that really sounds like us. You?”

“Uh uh, I got bupkis. It has almost been weirdly quiet the last couple of weeks.”

Both Winchesters continued their searching individually, the silence only broken by the clunk of their bottles being set back down on the table between sips. It was so quiet that when Sam’s phone rang, they both jumped slightly.

Sam grabbed the phone and looked thoughtfully at the screen. “Not a number I recognize.”

Dean gestured toward the phone. “Well, answer it! I hope it’s a case--I’m getting twitchy already.”

Shaking his hair out of the way, Sam put the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“ _ Hey there, Sammy. _ ”

The effect of that voice on Sam was instantaneous. His whole body tensed and his face twisted into a very unpleasant expression. “Karma.”

That was the last thing Dean had expected to hear. “What?! Are you freaking kidding me?!” Sam turned on the speaker and put his phone between them on the table. 

“ _ Miss me, boys? _ ”

The brothers looked at each other, mirroring images of disbelief on their faces. “Are you serious?” Sam asked.

“ _ Not unless I have to be. Why all the hostility? Didn’t you like my presents? _ ”

“Umm, not really, no,” Sam responded.

Her damnable laugh hadn’t changed any. “ _ That’s cute, Sam, considering yours is sitting in your dresser as we speak. _ ”

Sam’s eyes darted up to Dean, and he cursed when he saw the glee on his brother’s face. “Got them tucked in with the rest of your pink and lacies, Sammy?” Dean asked, then took a long pull from his bottle.

“ _ You’re one to talk, Dean. You’re wearing yours right now. _ ”

Beer sprayed the table, the phone, and Sam. One look at Sam’s raised eyebrows made Dean suddenly very intent on cleaning up the mess he’d made. “Need to do laundry,” he mumbled, still avoiding his brother’s gaze.

“ _ While this is fun, I didn’t call to twist your goodies. There’s something going on around me that might be right up your alley. _ ”

“A case?”

“ _ Looks like it, Sam. My spidey-sense is tingling.”  _

“Vamps? Werewolf? Ghost?”

“ _ Maybe, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’ll text you the info and you can check it out for yourself. _ ”

“How sure are you?”

“ _ Not one hundred percent, but close enough that I’m calling you two. That should tell you something. _ ”

Sam looked at his brother; Dean’s face was serious when he nodded back. “Alright. Send me the details, and if it needs us, we’ll be in touch.”

They heard Karma’s sigh of relief clearly over the phone. “ _ I really appreciate this, boys. _ ” 

After Sam disconnected the call, he looked up to see Dean staring at him. “What, Dean?”

“If this turns out to be our thing, are we actually going to do this?”

“What are we supposed to do?” Sam asked. “We can’t ignore a case, and do you really want to send another hunter Karma’s way?”

Dean nodded. “That would be a dick move. You’re right, but I don’t have to like it.”

“Maybe it won’t be anything.”

“Right, because our luck swings that way ever.” Dean looked at his empty beer, then got up from the table. “I need some air. I’ll go get supplies and real food. You find out if what she’s got is the real deal.”

Sam was already looking at a message on his phone. “Got it.” He turned back to his computer as Dean grabbed his keys. As soon as the door closed behind his brother, though, Sam sat back and ran a hand over his mouth, trying to gather his wits.

When it really came down to it, Sam admitted to himself, he was not at all confident that he could handle Karma right now. It had been a few months since that night, but Sam still dreamt about her regularly, waking sweaty and unfulfilled. And while hearing her voice had put him on alert, it had also stirred up some thoughts he’d rather not have around his brother. To make matters worse, he hadn’t found any new partners in the meantime; every time a woman had looked his way, he had been oblivious, ended up comparing her to Karma and finding her lacking, or--in one uncomfortable instance--been young enough to be her grandson. 

_ Enough with the self-pity,  _ Sam told himself, and turned back to his computer.  _ Maybe it won’t be anything anyway. _

* * * * *

_ Maybe it’ll turn out to be nothing _ , Dean thought for the hundredth time as he drove down the road. The smell of hot pizza filling the car was helping to distract him a little, but like the three blondes, two brunettes, and one particularly bendy chick with blue highlights he’d spent time with since he’d last seen Karma, it wasn’t doing enough for his peace of mind. Thoughts and memories kept poking at him at random times and in weird ways that he didn’t appreciate at all. 

Sam’s call derailed his train of thought. “I think it’s a case.”

“I asked for one,” Dean responded, “and of course…”

“Yeah. Anyway, it’s in Maryland, so it’s a long drive. Want to leave tonight or tomorrow?”

Dean thought about it for a moment. “Tomorrow. We should try to get a good night’s sleep before we leave. Chances are, with Karma around, it might be the last one we’re able to catch until this is over.”

“Good point. I’ll start getting some gear together.”

“Alright--be there soon.” Dean disconnected the call, turned the radio on, and continued towards home, drumming his hands on the wheel. 


	2. On the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter to get the boys to the east coast.

**On the Road**

Getting back into the car, Dean caught the end of his brother’s phone conversation as he dropped the bag of food onto the seat between them.

“We’re about halfway, so probably late tonight...You don’t have to...If you’re sure…” Sam rolled his eyes. “We’ll stay out of your underwear…No, I didn’t…You left those behind!” His voice was rising in frustration. “Look, do you want our help or not?” Dean couldn’t hear what Karma was saying, but Sam’s face spoke volumes about the earful he was currently getting. “You’re right, you’re right...Call if anything else comes up; otherwise we’ll see you tomorrow...Bye.”

“How’s our little Tinker-Hell doing?” Dean asked, turning on the Impala and easing her back onto the road.

“Charming as ever,” Sam answered dryly. “She’s sending me her address so we have a place to stay. She said she’s not there much, so she won’t be in our way.”

“Right.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Sam looked at the notes he’d gathered. “I have to hand it to her, though--this was not an easy catch. I’d seen the same info at different times and didn’t think it was anything, but when you look at it together, it’s turning into something.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Two high school students going missing and some strippers being assaulted? That’s really our thing? Not that I mind helping strippers…”

“I didn’t think so either, Dean, but the victims all have memory loss that the articles said can’t be attributed to alcohol, drugs or head trauma. I know PTSD can be a factor, but when you add them all up, you’d think at least one of them would remember something. One victim said it was like having a big, black hole where the memory should be.”

“That sounds a little too familiar,” Dean said. “Like, Karma familiar. We sure it’s not her doing this?”

The look on Sam’s face was thoughtful. “Possibly, but she did ask for our help, and she was really relieved when I told her we were coming, so I don’t think so. Doesn’t mean I’m convinced, though, and I definitely don’t trust her.”

“Good,” Dean said. “Me neither. We need to get in, get this done, and get back out as quick as possible.”

Sam nodded. “Agreed. I just wish I could figure out how the high school girls are connected to this.”

Dean changed lanes and roared past a particularly slow driver. “She didn’t have any ideas?”

Shaking his head, Sam unwrapped a burrito for his brother, then grabbed one for himself. “She said she couldn’t say much about the case and that there was a lot she wasn’t comfortable saying over the phone. It sounded pretty busy in the background when I was talking to her. Hopefully she’ll fill us in tomorrow.”

The Winchesters chewed thoughtfully as Dean steered the Chevy down the road. Sam’s phone chimed, and he looked at the message. “We have an address. Key’s under the cherub statue on the back porch.”

Dean snorted. “For someone who hates angels…” 

“Speaking of,” Sam said, looking up from his phone, “we bringing Cass in on this?”

Swallowing a large mouthful, Dean shook his head. “Not unless we need to. Cass is still trying to track down Metatron, and besides, the only person who likes Karma less than us right now is him.”

“He found out about her previous run-ins with angels?”

“Said he couldn’t go into details, but something about sticking her nose in somewhere it didn’t belong and ruffling a bunch of feathers. Sounds about right for her.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, no kidding.” He turned his attention back to his computer, but he didn’t completely miss the glances Dean kept shooting his way. When this was still going on a few minutes later, he sighed. “Dean, you going to tell me what’s up before you crash the car?”

“You going to be able to handle this? Handle her?”

He’d known this was coming, and Sam fervently wished he had an actual answer. “Honestly, I don’t know. I still haven’t figured out if I’m angry with her or myself more.”

“You’re sure she didn’t--”

“Pretty much. Don’t get me wrong--she did a damn good job of playing me, but I could have said no, Dean. She even gave me a chance to, but...truth be told, I wanted her, and she set it up so well that I wasn’t in any state of mind to think about the consequences.”

Dean wanted to be mad at him; Sam was supposed to be the level-headed one making the smart decisions, after all.  _ Can’t really blame him, though. Not like I have room to judge-- _

“One good thing came out of it, anyway.” Sam’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now we know which one of us is, uh, more talented in certain areas…”

He smiled. “Actually, Sammy, her conclusion is not scientifically sound, so it’s invalid.” 

Sam wasn’t sure what kind of response he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that. “Do you even know what you just said?”

Dean nodded, looking very pleased with himself. “I did a little research. Turns out she didn’t conduct her experiment under the same conditions to account for other variables affecting the outcome, so her results can’t be trusted. Can’t argue with science, Sammy.”

Laughing, Sam shook his head as he turned back to his notes. “I’m impressed, Dean. Well, since you’re taking my usual side in this, I’m going the Dean Winchester route: just take your defeat like a man instead of whining like a little bitch.”

The look Dean shot Sam was not friendly. “This is over, you’re wrong, end of discussion.”

“Uh huh,” Sam responded lightly, sarcasm practically dripping from every syllable, “Whatever you say, Dean.”


	3. Takoma Park, MD: Day 1

**Takoma Park, MD**  

The deep rumble of the Impala’s engine echoed loudly as the Winchesters drove through the sleepy neighborhood, necks craned as they tried to read house numbers. Sam pointed out of the window on his side of the car. “Number forty-two, over here.” They turned into the driveway, passing a neatly-maintained lawn and small flower garden as they pulled alongside a modest two-story red-brick house with white trim that nearly glowed in the ambient light from the streetlamps. Dean turned off the car, and the ensuing silence was nearly deafening.

As quietly as possible, Sam and Dean exited the car with their gear, walked through a gate in the waist-high picket fence, crossed a small brick patio, and climbed the back porch. As promised, a fat little cherub sat next to the back door.  _ That thing’s definitely seen better days, _ Dean thought as he took in the large chunks missing from the wings and the crack across its face.  _ Either that, or Karma likes fake angels about as much as the real ones. _ He lifted the battered decoration, retrieved the key, and opened the door.

Neither brother had quite known what to expect from Karma’s place, but they were pretty sure it wasn’t what they’d walked into. The kitchen was clean and homey, the lingering smell of good cooking clinging to the wooden cabinets and floral curtains. A breakfast bar gave way to a large living room filled with comfortable-looking furniture surrounding a slightly battered coffee table and wall-mounted television. While bookshelves lined two walls, only a couple of them actually held books or movies; the majority were bare except for a smattering of candles around the room. A set of stairs led to the second floor; underneath the stairs, they could see a short hallway. 

“That’s her room down there,” Sam said, pointing down the hall. “She said we’re welcome to the upstairs rooms. They should be ready for us.”

Dean dropped his bag on a chair near him. “Wonder if she left us anything to eat. I’m starved.” As he pulled open the fridge, a crack of lightning was visible through the small window over the sink. He turned back to his brother. “You see anything close to rain?”

Sam was shaking his head. “Not that I noticed. Wonder what--” His thoughts were interrupted as the back door opened and Karma strode inside.

“Hey there, boys. Glad to see you found the place alright.”

Sam and Dean tensed at the sight of her, not the least reason being the incredibly revealing outfit she was wearing and the warm smile she flashed at both of them. Her garb appeared to be composed of scraps of lace and fabric joined by straps that wound their way around her body from her neck to a scant few inches below the bottom of her hips, all in a shade of amethyst that accentuated the red in her hair and made her eyes look even more blue than they remembered. Matching thigh-highs bridged the considerable gap between her hemline and the shiny black vinyl boots that laced up to the middle of her shins. Sam felt his mouth go dry as he tried to will his thoughts into some semblance of order at the sight. 

Luckily for him, Dean was capable of speech at that moment. “And exactly who in the universe did I piss off this time to deserve the pleasure of your company this evening?”

Karma rolled her eyes. “Tough talk from a guy who’s mentally trying to work out how to take off my dress,” she responded flippantly. “I have wards on the house so I know when someone enters. Since I was on a break at work, I decided to come by and make sure it was you two and not some other perverts in my home.”

That shook Sam out of his shock. “We just got here. How did you…?”

“Traveling, or course. Just give me some iron-free space with vegetation, and poof! Better than Star Trek.”

Understanding lit his brown eyes. “The lightning.”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “What can I say, Sammy? I like to make an entrance. Now,” she said, turning to Dean, “there’s plenty of food and beer in the fridge, fresh sheets on the beds upstairs, clean towels in the bathroom, Netflix on the television...anything else I can do to make your stay more pleasurable?” A smile played at the corners of her lips.

It took more effort than Dean was happy with to shake his head. “Nah, thanks. Kind of attached to my soul right now.”

“Suit yourself. Sam, you good?” As Karma turned to the younger Winchester, Dean caught the hesitation in her eyes before she managed to get her flirty mask back into place.  _ That can’t be good _ , he thought to himself. 

“Fine,” Sam managed, his voice husky. He cleared his throat and bent his will towards keeping his eyes from roaming downward.

Dean could see the strain on his brother’s face and rode to his rescue. “Karma, I gotta ask: what’s with the outfit? Hot date with Edward Scissorhands?”

“What, this old thing?” she asked lightly, turning back to him and running one hand down her body, chuckling as she saw his eyes follow. “All of the victims so far are dancers from the same club, which I also happen to work for. Didn’t really have time to change before popping over, but I’m sure neither of you actually minds.”

“You’re a stripper?!” Sam blurted out without thinking. He cringed as he felt more of his restraint slipping, certain that she was now catching at least half of what was running through his head. Bracing himself for the cracks he was sure she was getting ready to make, Sam looked at Karma and was surprised to see her avoiding his eyes.

“Sam, you’re yelling so loud it’s hard to focus. Could you either quiet down or think less distracting thoughts, please?” Karma stared at the floor as she said this, her expression unreadable.

Taken aback, Sam caught his brother’s eye over her head. Dean jerked his head slightly upward, and Sam picked up his meaning loud and clear. “I’m going to head upstairs and get settled. Dean can fill me in, right?”

“Right,” Dean responded, then turned his attention to Karma as Sam left the room. It wasn’t until the footsteps faded from the stairs that she looked at him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

Dean scoffed. “C’mon, you’re a much better liar than that.”

The poker face she’d assumed fell away, and Dean felt alarm at the worry in her expression and the way she wrapped her arms protectively around herself. “I don’t think Sam realizes this, but he’s been shouting his thoughts at me since I walked in, and they’ve almost all been exceedingly racy. I don’t understand! It’s been months, Dean; he shouldn’t be this bad. If I’d known…”

“What? You wouldn’t have jumped his bones so you could make your getaway?”

Uncertainty turned to anger in a blink. “You would have preferred I kicked his ass? Spelled the crap out of him? Left him tied up and defenseless? I did what I thought was best because you are so frigging--” Karma stopped herself with visible effort, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths; she was noticeably calmer when she continued. “I should have asked you to find other hunters for this. I’ll understand completely if you want to drop the case and haul ass away from me. At least get something to eat and rest up before you go.” Karma turned her back on Dean and started toward the door. 

“Karma, wait.” Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving. As his hand touched her bare skin, she tensed, and a multitude of impure thoughts rushed into his consciousness, each one vying to override his self-control. Gritting his teeth, Dean mastered those impulses as he let go of Karma. “You’re concerned enough that you called us, even after what went down. And we can’t be sure what another hunter would do with you being...well, you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, a small smile lightening her expression as she watched him retrieve and open a beer from the fridge. “Good for you, touching me without losing your mind completely. Although, there was definitely some interesting stuff breaking through in bits and pieces.” She walked over and leaned against the counter next to him. “That chick with the crazy hair was pretty hot.”

Smiling back at her, Dean took a long drink from his bottle. “You have no...well, I guess you do have an idea,” he admitted. “Like what you saw?” he asked, taking another drink.

“I’d do her.”

_ I’m really going to have to stop drinking around her, _ he thought as he tried to clear the beer from his windpipe. He coughed a few more times as Karma looked on, feigned innocence plastered across her face. “Good to know,” he said, setting his beer down.

He saw Karma take a look at his watch. “I need to get back. I’m not done at work until after 3am, so I’ll just catch up with you in the morning.”

“You’re not going to tell me any of your thoughts? Usually you can’t help yourself.”

She shook her head. “In this, you and Sam are the experts. I don’t want to cloud your judgement. Sweet dreams, Dean.” And with that, she was out the door. Moments later, a crack of lightning told him she was gone.

Dean looked through the window to where Karma had disappeared. “Doesn’t want to cloud our judgement. Too late for that,” he muttered as he picked up his beer and called to Sam to come down for dinner.


	4. Takoma Park, MD: Day 2

_ Sam yawned and scratched his bare chest as he ambled down the stairs, looking for the sound he’d heard from his room. As he hit the bottom step and turned toward the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks. _

_ Karma, her back to him, was dancing along to the radio while cleaning up the dishes they’d left the night before. He watched, mesmerized, as she swayed to the music, her lithe body undulating slowly, the satiny material of her short robe sliding around her hips and thighs. Sam found himself irresistibly drawn toward her. As he moved closer, his breath caught when she bent over, the robe riding up almost high enough to show him what--if anything--she might be wearing underneath. _

_ She straightened and turned back to the sink; he could hear her humming along softly as she continued to move in time with the rhythm. Unable to stop himself, Sam wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, lowering his mouth to her neck. _

_ “Oh, Sammy.” He felt more than heard her moan as Karma molded herself to his body. “Mmmm, I’ve missed you.” _

_ His strong hands gripped the shoulders of her robe and peeled it down her arms, letting it drop to the floor to reveal nothing but her underneath. Sam sank to his knees in worship as he teasingly trailed his lips and tongue down her spine, making her shiver.  _

_ “Sammy” he heard as he worked his way back up her body, skimming his hands over every inch of her skin he could along the way.  _

_ “Sammy” he heard, enjoying her desperate tone as Karma ground her hips against his with an urgency that left him nearly senseless with desire. _

_ “Sammy” he heard again as he tangled his fingers in her hair and bent her over the counter. _

“Sammy!”

Sam bolted upright in the bed, so snarled in the sheets that he fell heavily onto the floor. Catching his breath, he looked up to see his brother standing over him, fully dressed in his Fed getup, barely contained laughter lighting up his emerald eyes. 

“Dean, what the Hell, man?”

“You tell me, Sammy. I interrupt something?”

Running a hand through his hair, Sam avoided the question. “What time is it?” he asked instead, squinting at the bright sunlight coming in through the bedroom’s lone window.

“Past time for your ass to be out of bed. Let’s go man--we’ve got work to do.”

He watched Dean turn and leave, then slowly got up from the floor, groaning as each movement he made found new places his tumble left bruises. He grabbed a towel and headed toward the bathroom.

A short time later, a calmed, clean, and clothed Sam made his way down the stairs to join his brother, the aroma of home-cooking pulling him onward. As he turned toward the kitchen, however, he stopped at the sight of Karma, who was scooping eggs out of a pan and onto plates already loaded with toast and bacon.

She looked over at him and smiled. “Grub’s up. Come help yourself,” she said brightly, setting a plate in front of Dean and one at the empty seat next to him. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please. Black,” he answered, sitting down and trying not to enjoy watching her slide around the room in dark running shorts and a white v-neck t-shirt, bare feet not making a sound on the tile. As she filled his mug, Sam was surprised to see how relaxed and content she seemed, especially compared to last night. “You know, you really didn’t have to do all this.”

Karma waved her hand at him dismissively. “It’s no big deal. Honestly, I didn’t expect to sleep here, so it’s a bonus for you two that you’re not stuck with yogurt or cold cereal.”

The brothers shared a look. “Out of curiosity, where else would you be sleeping?” Dean asked around a mouthful of bacon.

“At Zane’s,” was all she said as Karma turned to fill her own cup of coffee.

Another looked passed between them. “And he is?”

She still didn’t look at them as she got some milk from the fridge. “My boss...and sorta my boyfriend.”

Both Winchesters raised eyebrows at that. “Boyfriend?” Sam choked out, his emotions running the gamut from relief to jealousy and back again.

Sighing, Karma put the milk away and turned to them. “Yes, boyfriend. And before you ask, he knows about the succubus thing. It’s actually how I got hired at his club.” She leaned back on the counter and took in both boys. “Zane caters to a very specific audience. More than half of the dancers at the club have been a vessel for a demon or an angel.”

_ Just when I thought I’d heard everything _ , Dean thought to himself. Aloud, he asked, “There’s a market for that?”

“Of course, the majority of our customers are just there to watch incredibly beautiful women take off their clothes. For the most part, it’s just some residual side effects from being possessed creating extra appeal. Some people are subconsciously drawn to one or the other, especially if the customer themselves is a former vessel. Others, well…” Karma paused, took a deep breath, and continued, “some of our customers are potential targets of yours who take advantage of our dancers’ familiarity with the supernatural and our discretion.”

Sam’s fork clattered as it hit his plate. “Are you serious? You dance for what? Vamps? Werewolves?”

“None of your business, actually,” she responded tartly. “That’s the whole point of discretion, Sam.” Karma crossed to them and speared them with a look. “I slept here because Zane flipped about me calling hunters to help figure out what’s been hurting our girls. I promised him that nothing would happen to any of our customers unless they were the ones causing the problems. He’s still royally pissed at me but is willing to accept my word that you won’t get stab-happy.” Her tone and glare left no room for argument.

Sharing a look, the Winchesters turned back to Karma and nodded. “Alright, we promise to be good and only gank the actively-monstering monsters,” Dean agreed. Sam nodded, then retrieved his fork and worked on finishing the last of his meal.

Both boys saw Karma visibly relax. “Good.” She went out to the living room and to the coffee table, where Dean watched her dig through a bag sitting there. She came up with a piece of paper, which she handed to them on her way back to the kitchen. “I don’t know what your plans were for today, but here’s the names and addresses of the two victims who said they willing to talk to you about what happened. They know you’re not Feds; just be yourselves and you’ll get more out of them. They’re a little skittish right now, so when you get there, make sure to tell them Pixie sent you.”

“Pixie? Really? Because, you know, your actual name isn’t already--”

Karma wrinkled her nose at Dean. “Shut up. Also, if you want to get a look at the police files, try to go after lunchtime. The station’s practically a ghost town then because they’ll be out on patrol, and Officer Daughtry is usually stuck on frontdesk duty. He can be a stickler for rules, so if he tries to stonewall you with protocol or chain of command, ask him if his wife knows about Sparkles. That should get you anything you want.”

Sam took out his phone and started looking up directions to the first address. “Anything else you suggest?”

“Yeah, a visit to Springhaven High School is probably your best bet for getting other information you’d find useful about the missing girls. Ask for Ms. Ferris when you get there.”

“Sounds good,” Dean said, draining the last of his coffee and pushing away from the counter. “I’ll get our stuff together and we’ll get out of your hair.” 

They both watched as Dean disappeared up the stairs. When Sam turned back, Karma was inches from his face, a serious look sending stormclouds across her deep blue eyes. “You going to be able to keep it together, Sam?”

Retreating for a little breathing room, Sam tried to remain calm. “What--”

“Don’t even try it. There’s a damn good reason I’m not turning my back on you when Dean’s not around.”

He blushed deeply, dropping his gaze to his empty plate while he fiddled with his fork. “I didn’t realize you heard that,” he murmured.

Her disbelief was clear in her voice. “Heard it? I sent your brother upstairs to wake you up before I went deaf.” A dishtowel-wrapped hand appeared in Sam’s line of sight, and Karma used it to lift his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. “Come clean, Sam. Don’t make me pull it out of you.”

“I’m having a hard time with you being so close,” he allowed, “but it’s getting easier. You haven’t heard anything from me since Dean woke me up, right?”

Her eyebrow quirked up. “Not since you got out of the shower, anyway.”

Sam felt his cheeks heating up even more, but he held steady this time. “I can do this. I will do this. Once we get rolling, I’ll have the case to focus on and you won’t hear another peep out of me about, well, you know.” He watched as she searched his expression; he didn’t feel her poking around in his head, so he must have been convincing because she smiled at him, let go of his chin, and stepped away as Dean tromped back down.

Dean looked at the two, but decided not to say anything--didn’t need to be a telepath to know what they’d probably been talking about. “Ready to go, Sammy?”

Tossing back his head, Sam finished his coffee. “Yeah. Let’s go.” He put his mug in the sink, waved at Karma, and exited into the backyard.

As Karma started gathering the rest of their dishes, Dean looked at her thoughtfully. “All good?”

“Yup, just peachy,” she said, then considered him for a moment. “Be safe out there. We have no idea what you’re heading toward.”

His smile flashed all the way up to his eyes. “Poster boys for safety over here.” Laughing at Karma’s answering snort, Dean grabbed his stuff and joined his brother in the car.

Sam was staring at his phone as Dean started the car, the Impala’s purr sounding less intimidating in the morning light. “Where to first?” he asked.

“It’s your lucky day, Dean--both strippers live nearby, so they’ll be our first two stops today,” Sam responded.

“I just love the smell of glitter and daddy issues in the morning. Let’s roll.”

The interior of the car was quiet as Dean focused on driving while Sam looked around, taking in the unfamiliar area. Early as it was, it was already a beautiful day outside; Sam closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat, enjoying the feel of the breeze playing with his hair and the warm sun on his arm. Too quickly, his thoughts turned to the case, and his moment of Zen was over. “Karma give you any more details about the case?”

“Negative. She said something last night about holding back so she doesn’t mess with our process.” Dean thought for a moment, then continued, “I’ll give her this much: she’s smart enough to respect our hunting skills.”

Nodding, Sam indicated his brother should turn left. “I also get the feeling she’s pretty smart in a lot of other areas, too. So why’s she…” He couldn’t quite think of a good way to phrase it.

“Shaking her ass in front of strangers for cash?”

“Eloquent as always, Dean. Yeah, that.” He pointed toward the right, and they turned onto a street lined with condo and apartment high-rises.

“Dude, who the Hell knows why Karma does half the crap she does? I’m starting to get the impression that if she woke up one morning and decided taking over the world sounded fun, she’d do it.”

“I don’t even want to think about that possibility,” Sam said, shuddering. He looked down at his phone, then looked at the buildings around them. “Should be the next block.” They concentrated on finding the right concrete beehive among the cookie-cutter complexes looming over them, and turned into the parking lot when they reached it. As they walked, Sam checked his phone for the unit number, then dialed it into the intercom by the door. 

It rang twice, then: “ _ What? _ ”

Taken aback at the hostility packed into that one syllable, Dean stared at the intercom for a moment before responding, “Taylor Nyst?”

“ _ Who’s asking? _ ”

Exchanging a glance with his brother, Sam tentatively ventured, “We’re Sam and Dean. We wanted to talk to you about--”

“ _ Go away. _ ”

Rolling his eyes, Dean sighed. “Pixie sent us.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air, until finally: “ _ Come on up.” _ The door buzzed, and Sam pulled it open and held it so Dean could enter first. They looked around at the lobby as they crossed to the elevators; expensive looking furniture was arranged around the center and the walls were hung with framed artwork. Even in their suits, the Winchesters almost felt underdressed. 

“What kind of stripper lives in a place like this?” Sam whispered.

Dean shrugged. “One who’s damn good at her job, maybe,” he answered hopefully. He missed Sam’s eye roll as the elevator opened in front of them. It was a surprisingly quick ride up to the 29th floor, and they found a sullen blonde standing in the doorway of the unit they were looking for. “Taylor?”

She nodded, avoiding their eyes and pulling her sweater tighter around her slight frame. “In here. Allison’s here, too,” she shared quietly. “I really can’t stand being alone right now, so when Pixie called and told us about you guys, she figured she’d come over so we’d save you a trip.”

Their eyes widened as they entered the apartment. It was much bigger on the inside, and just as well appointed as the lobby. But where downstairs had been about antiques and old money, this place was chrome, leather, and newly acquired cash. The furniture and the electronics had a masculine feel to them, so neither hunter was surprised to see framed pictures of a distinctly happier-looking Taylor snuggled up to a model-quality guy a couple of years into his mid-life crisis. Their examination of the apartment was interrupted by a woman bringing two steaming mugs of tea in from the kitchen.

“Where has Pixie been hiding you two? She’s going to get an earful about hoarding her goodies the next time I see her,” she said in a deep voice with just a hint of rasp to it.

Taylor smiled gratefully at her friend as she took one of the cups. “This is Allison.” As they sat down next to each other on the black leather couch, Dean thought that they couldn’t have been more different. Taylor was slight and pale, shorter than Karma with choppy hair so blonde it was nearly white. Allison was tall and sumptuously curvy, with mocha skin and long, thin braids that she casually flung over her shoulder so they’d be out of the way. Even their body language was in opposition, with Taylor shrinking even more into herself while Allison practically bristled with defiance.

“And you are?” Allison asked, giving both Winchesters a lengthy, appraising look as they sat in armchairs opposite the two women.

Sam was strongly reminded of Karma, then pushed that thought aside. “I’m Sam, and this is my brother, Dean.”

Her eyes lit up with delight as she licked her lips. “Any other tasty little apples like you two falling out of that fine family tree?”

Stammering, Sam tried to focus as she again brought Karma to mind. Luckily, Taylor stepped in. “You’ll have to forgive her. The more freaked she is, the more forceful Allison’s personality gets. Probably why she and Pixie hit it off so well.”

Dean’s curiosity got the better of him. “How long have you known her?”

“About four or five months, ever since she started working at Halos and Horns,” Allison shared. “When Zane bought the place last Fall, he was kind of rude to us; when she got there, she took over supervising us. She makes sure we’re all eating right and keeping healthy, actually listens when we’re having problems, and all it takes is one word from her to a bouncer and a creep’s out on the street in seconds with instructions to stay gone.” She stopped to take a drink, considering them once again over the rim of her mug. “How do you two know Pixie? Casually or biblically?”

Smiling, Dean decided to avoid that one by getting to the point. “Actually, that’s why she called us. We helped her out with a demon problem not too long ago. She thinks what happened to you guys and the other girls might be right up our alley.”

Taylor and Allison exchanged glances, then Taylor put down her cup to wrap her sweater around herself again. “So you know we’re...we used to be...we were…”

Sam nodded. “Do you happen to know if your possessors were angels or demons?”

Both girls shook their heads. “That’s one of the weirdest things about this,” Allison said. “We used to know, but it’s like those memories were wiped when we lost the ones about our attacks.”

His soft brown eyes filled with sympathy, Sam gestured for her to continue. “Can you tell us what happened?”

Sharing another look with Taylor, Allison took a deep breath before setting down her own mug. “It’s the same for both of us. We remember being at work that night, but nothing else before waking up in the alley next door the following morning. We know that time passed, but it’s like there’s a hole where someone reached in and dug out the memory. The hospital said there were no drugs or anything in our systems, and while we both had some scrapes and bruises, no brain damage or anything shows up on scans. They can’t explain why we don’t remember that night, and neither of us is crazy enough to ask them about the other missing memories from our puppet days.”

“And is it the same for the others?”

Nodding, Taylor shared, “Some of them were unconscious for a lot longer--Muse was actually in a coma for nearly a week.” Glancing between Sam and Dean, her eyes were hopeful. “Can you really tell us what happened?”

“We don’t know, but we’re going to try,” Sam responded gently. He took out one of their counterfeit FBI cards from his inner breast pocket and gave it to Taylor. “Will you two call--or get other girls to talk to us--if you remember anything else?”

Allison arched an eyebrow. “I don’t get your number, sugar? How about your brother?” She asked, turning her attention to Dean. “You like dark meat, honey?”

Dean smiled. “I’m flattered--we both are--but we need to stay focused right now. Remember to call if there’s anything else.” He and Sam stood and walked toward the door, trying to ignore the laughter and catcalling that followed them out.

Punching the elevator button, Dean said, “That Allison is something else, huh? Can definitely see why she and Karma get along.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Sam replied. 

Another quick elevator ride, and they were strolling back through the lobby when Dean’s phone started to ring. “Karma,” he told his brother after a glance at the screen. “What’s up?” he said into the phone.

“ _ They found another girl this morning, _ ” she said, her voice trembling. He heard her take a deep breath, and she sounded steadier as she continued. “ _ Zane said the crime scene’s a madhouse, so trying to muscle in won’t get you anywhere. There’s also no use trying to get to the cops right now--the station will be swarming for a while after this. _ ”

“You ok?”

“ _ Peachy-freaking-keen. I need to go. You headed to the school? _ ”

Dean caught his brother’s eye. “Yeah, the school seems like the best option right now,” he responded, getting into the Impala.

“ _ Catch you both later. _ ” After Karma disconnected, Dean stared at the phone for a moment. “Sam, Karma’s beyond worried at this point. We need to get over to that high school and see what we can find out.”

Eyes glued to his phone, Sam nodded. “Right there with you. School’s a bit of a drive. Let’s go.”


	5. Clarksburg, MD

**Clarksburg, MD**

Sam and Dean straightened their ties and settled their suit jackets more comfortably on their broad shoulders as they walked up to Springhaven High School. The large building was modern looking, faced in beige brick that practically glowed in the late May sun. A football stadium peeked out from behind the building on the left; a sea of cars filled the parking lot on the right. They went through the front doors and turned right into the main office, pulling out their fake badges as they walked up to a long, wooden counter and the little old lady manning it. 

“Good morning, ma’am,” Dean started, smiling politely as she looked up at him. “We’re--”

“Agents Black and Cullen, right? Ms. Ferris said you might come by. I’ll get the principal to walk you down to her room. One moment please,” she said, indicating they should sit in the chairs by the window.

“Black and Cullen? Really? Now she’s got other people messing with us?” Dean whispered viciously to his brother as they took their seats. “Seriously need to set Karma straight on a few things when this is done.”

Sam scoffed. “Right, because that’s worked for us so far.” He looked around the office, memories of a hundred different schools running through his mind. “Who do you think we’re meeting? Another co-worker of Karma’s?”

Dean considered this for a moment, then smiled. “I could go for a little ‘Hot for Teacher’ right now,” he said, a suggestive look on his face.

“Dude, chill,” Sam cautioned as he spotted a squat, older gentlemen in an ill-fitting suit headed their way. They stood to greet what they assumed was the principal.

“Good morning, agents,” he said in a clipped tone that spoke more of efficiency than annoyance. “I’m Dr. Palmer. I’ll take you to see Ms. Ferris.” He pushed his thick black-framed glasses up his hooked nose, then gestured for them to precede him out of the office. “I’m assuming you’re here to talk to her about our missing students. Local police said they were out of leads.”

Tearing his eyes away from the man’s God-awful comb-over, Sam responded, “That’s why we’re here. We’re hoping to find something they missed.”

Dr. Palmer nodded, then fixed his glasses again. “I’m not surprised you’re looking for Lucy, then. Excellent teacher, really makes connections with the students--both pretty rare for substitutes, even long term ones. She took over for a teacher who went on medical leave during the winter and got to know the two girls pretty well before they disappeared. Wish I could get her to take the job permanently.”

They exchanged another glance over Dr. Palmer’s head. “She’s not permanent staff?”

“She says she likes keeping her options open, prefers the flexibility subbing offers. Funny how she can be so reliable and yet flighty at the same time.” He stopped and gestured at an open classroom door to their left. “There’s a few minutes left in the class period, but she’ll be free to speak after the bell rings. You’re welcome to wait quietly in the back of the room until then. And please be sure to let us know if there’s anything else we can do to help you. We want those girls back very much.” 

“Hmm,” Dean said, distracted. He was developing some strong suspicions about this teacher, and entered the classroom to confirm them.

Sam nodded to the principal and watched him walk back down the hall before he followed Dean through the doorway. He was stopped short as he smacked into his brother’s back. “Dean, what--?”

Dean didn’t hear his brother; his attention was locked on the front of room. Sam followed his eyes and cursed softly at what he saw.

Karma straightened from where she’d been talking to some seated students, waved at the Winchesters briefly, and clapped her hands. The class quieted almost immediately and gave her their full attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re almost out of time. Your projects need to be ready for submission tomorrow, regardless of when you’re scheduled to present. All my tech folks, make sure you’ve reserved a laptop from the media center for your presentations. Static art projects can be dropped off in the morning if they won’t fit in your lockers. Anyone turning in writing assignments needs to bring three copies with them. I’ll have your grading sheets tomorrow; remember that your evaluation of your classmates’ work is worth almost as much towards your grade as your own work. Any questions?” No hands went up, and the bell rang. “See you all tomorrow!” 

The students all grabbed their book bags and headed for the door in clumps, talking excitedly as they passed into the hallway. A couple of girls looked at Sam and Dean, giggling. They both smiled back appreciatively, their attention so locked on the girls that they didn’t realize Karma had come up behind them until they received simultaneous smacks to the backs of their heads.

“Eyes in your heads, boys.” Karma gave them a pointed glare before making her way around the room, straightening chairs and resetting the room. Both Winchesters took in her professional attire appreciatively. Her short-sleeved cobalt dress shirt only had a couple of buttons undone at the top, creating a more modest neckline than they were used to seeing on Karma. It was fitted through the waist, and then flared slightly over her hips before it gave way to a charcoal pencil skirt that fell a couple of inches below her knees. The short heels on her practical black pumps clicked as she moved across the tiled floor. 

Sam found his voice first. “You’re a teacher?”

Seating herself behind a large wooden desk that had definitely seen better days, Karma smiled at them. “Fully certified in a few states, actually. I’m allowed to teach history, literature, and a couple of foreign languages.”

“Spanish?” Dean blurted out, unable to stop himself.

“Si, ense ñ o espa ñ ol a veces,” she replied in a low voice, her tone and gaze tinged with amusement. “Pero ahora, estoy  enseñando historia.”

Dean bit his lip and kept his eyes glued to hers, his brother so completely forgotten that he jumped when Sam elbowed him in the ribs. “Indulge your weird porn fetishes some other time with someone less dangerous,” Sam shot out of the corner of his mouth.

Rubbing his aching side, Dean turned back to Karma. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re Ms. Ferris?”

“What? And have to listen to your detention and ruler-laden fantasies all morning?” She snatched a pen out of the mug on her desk and started writing on a sheet of paper. “Here’s a list of students you’re going to want to talk to. They’re minors, so an admin might sit in with you. I figure you’re pretty well practiced at asking your kinds of questions without arousing suspicion.” Tearing the note off of the pad, she handed it to Sam. “You head up to the main office and they’ll call the kids to you.” Switching her gaze to Dean, she continued, “You stay here with me so I can tell you some more about what happened this morning.”

“Why’s Sammy doing the interrogations?”

Her eyebrow arched so sharply it could have cut glass. “Because I trust him a lot more around the jail bait than I do you,” she said flatly.

Dean frowned, causing Sam to laugh even harder as he left the classroom. “You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes.”

“Only sometimes,” she mused. “Must be losing my touch.” Karma stood and walked briskly toward the door, looking into the hallway briefly before closing it and coming back towards Dean. “Serious question for you: When was the last time Sam got laid?”

“How would I know? I’m not his pimp,” he shot back. He softened as he watched her sit down in one of the student chairs, drop her elbows to her knees, and cover her face with her hands. “Everything ok?”

“Peachy,” she retorted, her voice muffled by her palms. 

He moved closer, hitched up his pant legs a little, and got down on one knee in front of her, putting him at what would be her eye level if she wasn’t hiding them. “I didn’t buy that the last two times you said it. Buying it even less now.”

Karma looked at him then, tears brimming on her lower lashes. “The girl they found this morning? She’s the worst off so far. Last I heard, she was in critical condition. They still have no idea who’s doing this, no leads. You two are my only hope at solving this right now, but your brother couldn’t be more distracted around me if he tried.” She rose and whirled away from him quickly, but not before he saw the threatened tears spill over and slide down her cheeks. “I am more scared than I’ve been in a very long while, and it’s all my fault.” 

She moved to step away, but Dean’s hand on her shoulder halted her. When he gently turned her toward him, Karma leaned into his chest with a sob. He wrapped his arms around her, carefully placing one hand on her back and the other on her head. There was a little twitch of something irreverent as he gently stroked her fiery locks, but he pushed it down easily, focused on Karma’s apparent misery.

“Hey, we’ll figure this out. It’s going to be fine.” Murmuring soothing sounds and words as he continued to smooth his hand over her hair, Dean had no idea how long it was before her trembling finally eased and she stepped back from him. Karma busied herself with fussing over the dampened state of his jacket to avoid meeting his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to…” She swiped her hands across her cheeks and stared at her shoes.

Dean tapped a finger under her chin, urging her gaze upward and onto his face. He found it harder to ignore the spark of lust that quick contact stirred when he saw the open vulnerability in her sapphire eyes. Clearing his throat, he forced a reassuring smile onto his face. “Don’t worry about it. You can pay the dry cleaning bill,” he quipped.  _ Ignoring emotions and making jokes to diffuse uncomfortable situations are just two of the many valuable services Dean Winchester offers _ . 

It worked, though, because Karma smiled. “Will do. Now, we have work to do.”

* * * * *

Sam wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the four names on Karma’s list, but the modest and self-assured girls sitting in the conference room were more than a little surprising. 

“Good morning, ladies, I’m--”

“Cut to the chase, agent. We’re missing valuable instructional time chatting with you,” responded the one to his far left, a heavy-set redhead with flyaway curls that were just barely tamed by the severe black headband she wore. The rest stayed quiet, but the impatience on their faces showed they were in complete agreement.

He frowned at their abruptness.  _ Be honest, Winchester--you’re also kind of annoyed that they’re not fawning over you like the girls you passed in the hallway. _ He pushed that embarrassing little nugget of self-reflection down, cleared his throat, and continued. “Right. You all knew Nadia Krakov and Talia Ross?”

All four heads nodded. “We have...had most of our classes together, and we’re all part of the Focus Club,” shared the girl on his right, whose long brown hair was pulled back into a French braid so tight it was a wonder her face moved. 

“So you would know if they slipped off to meet someone or go to a--”

“Let me stop you right there, sir,” interrupted the first girl again; he was really starting to dislike her. “As we explained to the police, none of that is possible. It would be completely against the Focus Club pledge.”

They all nodded again. “That’s right, sir,” chimed in a petite Asian with horn-rimmed glasses. “To be a member of Focus, you have to forsake anything that could get in the way of achieving your college and career goals. No dating, no illicit substances, no clubs. We’re committed to our studies and grooming ourselves as future leaders of this world.”

“We are all completely open and honest with each other, too.” The last student said in a voice so soft he barely heard her. “When we’re tempted, we reach out and get support from other members or the sponsor so we can stay on track.”

“Sponsor?” Sam asked, still trying to wrap his head around these unique young women.

“It was Mr. Madding, but he got sick, and when Ms. Ferris took over his classes, she also took over the club,” shared the redhead. “No offense to Mr. Madding, but she’s been amazing.”

He didn’t quite know what to say as he took in the obvious adoration they all felt for Karma. Sam decided to get focus back on the missing girls. “So, the night they disappeared…”

The other three girls looked at their ginger friend, who was clearly taking over as their spokesperson. “We all met Ms. Ferris at the AFI theater in Silver Spring because there was a documentary playing about the refugees caused by all of the unrest in the Middle East and Africa over the last decade. After the movie, Ms. Ferris just left, but we stopped by a bakery on the way back to our cars and got cupcakes to go. Nadia and Talia live down the street from each other, so they came in Talia’s car. We all rode up in the elevator together, but we got off before them because we’d parked on a lower level. They were supposed to text us when they got home, but the text never came. There’s been nothing since.”

Sam nodded, putting just enough sympathy into his expression and voice to keep up the Federal agent act. “Thank you, ladies. We’re going to do everything we can--”

“Can we go now?” piped French-braid. “I’ve got an exam tomorrow and I’m missing the review.”

Caught off-guard by the callousness, Sam could only nod his assent. The girls stood up quickly and made their way from the room. Pushy Ginger paused briefly in the doorway and looked back at him. “It’s not that we’re heartless, agent--just realistic. It’s been 5 weeks, and we all know what the probability is at this point.” 

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing,” Sam said under his breath as she disappeared. With a lot to consider, he walked slowly out into the office and was so deep in thought that he nearly missed it when the receptionist called for him. 

“Agent? Just a moment, please.”

Turning back, he saw her escorting an unfamiliar man carrying a plastic shopping bag in one hand. “Mr. Reynolds is here to see Ms. Ferris as well. Would you mind showing him the way, please?”

Sam nodded and flicked his eyes up and down the newcomer. He didn’t recognize him or the name, but he’d bet Dean a month’s toilet scrubbing duty that this was Karma’s boyfriend, Zane. “Pretty” was the first word that came to mind as he took in the other man’s appearance. His hair was somewhere between his and Dean’s in length, brown at the roots but fading to a dirty blonde towards the ends. Long, dark lashes framed eyes a couple of shades of blue lighter than Karma’s, and a dusting of well-kept stubble lined his upper lip and chiseled jawline. While he was a couple of inches shorter than Sam, his shoulders were broader, and Sam was sure that Zane’s grey pinstriped button-down, black slacks, and designer shoes probably cost more than his and Dean’s entire wardrobes combined. 

“Zane Reynolds,” the man said in rich, warm tones, holding out his free hand. “Pleasure to meet you,  _ agent _ ,” he said, the slight emphasis on Sam’s assumed title confirming Zane knew who he really was. “I do hope Lucy isn’t in any serious trouble,” he continued with a wink. Sam shook his hand-- _ Damn, this bastard’s got a grip _ \--but didn’t respond. Instead, he turned and gestured for Zane to precede him out of the office.  

Once they were out of earshot of the other staff, Zane asked, “So, which one are you? Sam or Dean?”

“Sam,” he replied. “Dean’s with Ka...Lucy in her classroom.” A covert glance out of the side of his eye showed him not only had Zane caught his slip, but he didn’t know her real name.  _ Or is it me that doesn’t know her real name? _ he wondered.  _ Either way, smooth move, Sammy. _ “She told you why we’re here?”

“And I’m sure she told you I’m not happy about it,” he replied, a slight edge to his voice. “However, as I’m also sure you know, once she sets her mind to something, Lucy gets it.”

Sam tried not to smile at the barely-concealed frustration in his companion’s tone as he opened the door to Karma’s classroom. Zane moved through the opening briskly. Sam followed and saw Dean, body tense, standing next to a seated Karma, both clearly interrupted from viewing something on her computer by their entrance. He watched his brother’s eyes narrow at the sight of Zane and the smile that lit up Karma’s face as she rose and moved toward him.

“Zane? What on Earth?”

The answering smile he turned on her was dazzling. “When we spoke this morning, you mentioned you forgot your lunch. Can’t have you hungry, now can I?” he replied. As soon as she was within his reach, Zane wrapped his free arm around Karma’s waist and pulled her to him, leaning down to engage her in an ostentatiously passionate kiss. 

The Winchesters exchanged eye rolls as the embrace went on much longer than was considered polite in the presence of company. Dean cleared his throat loudly, but Zane ignored him, instead sliding his hand down to cup Karma’s backside as he continued. 

Sam, wavering between jealousy and amusement, chose the latter and spoke up. “Look to you like he’s overcompensating for something, Dean?” he asked his brother.

“I think you might be right there, Sammy,” Dean replied, playing off the younger Winchester perfectly. “Think it’s ‘cause he’s trying to pick up our sloppy seconds?”

Karma pressed a hand to Zane’s chest and broke their contact, swiveling her head to turn an incredulous stare on Dean. “Between missing lunch and being currently short on oxygen, I must be hearing things,” she said, her voice dangerously mild as she advanced on him. “I could swear you just referred to me as ‘sloppy seconds,’ Dean.”

He looked down as she stopped an inch from him, and the deadly calm in Karma’s voice and demeanor had him more than a little scared for his life...or at least certain body parts Dean was  _ very _ attached to. “Must be hearing things,” he whispered with a gulp.

“Must be,” Karma continued in that oddly menacing tone as she reached up, patting his jacket collar and wrapping one hand around his tie. “And I’m certain I’ll never have that particular ‘hallucination’ again, now will I?” was punctuated with her pushing the knot of his tie firmly against his collar--and his neck--with one hand while yanking down the rest with the other, the bland expression still on her face as his breathing got a little more arduous. He shook his head rapidly, and she smiled. “Good. Now that we have that straightened out...” she released him as she pivoted gracefully toward the others in the room.

Dean inhaled deeply as the tie’s restriction eased. He watched as she walked back to Zane and grabbed the bag he’d been holding. He couldn’t see her expression, but judging by the laughter Sam barely bit back, Zane was not immune to Karma’s displeasure. With a sigh, she stormed over to her desk and plopped into her chair, taking out her lunch and stabbing at the lettuce like it was one of them instead. “Should have just put out some rulers and saved myself some time and aggravation,” she muttered to herself, but intentionally loud enough for them all to hear. 

Karma threw down her fork in frustration without taking a bite. “I have to get to a meeting soon. Zane, I’ll walk you out. Boys, I assume you have more important things to be doing as well. I’ll call you from work tonight if I hear anything else. Don’t wait up.” Crossing the room to Zane, she took his arm and steered him out of the classroom, but not before he shot a smug glance over his shoulder at the Winchesters.

Dean followed them out into the hallway and stopped to let some students pass by, taking the opportunity to appreciate the view Karma’s retreating form offered. He heard snickering to his left.

“Dream on, Grandpa,” said the tallest of a group of three boys standing against their lockers nearby. He brushed his hand across his forehead to move his bleached hair out of his eyes. “Ms. Ferris is the hottest piece of ass in this place. No way some government douche like you is going to nail her.”

“You think you got a shot, Bieber?”

The kid actually sneered at him. “More than you, dude.”

As he moved closer to the trio, Dean watched as Bieber’s buddies moved away, eyes widening with a little fear. The dumbass, however, stared right back at him.  _ Moron’s got balls, I’ll give him that much. _ A grin crossed his face as he leaned in, about to set the record straight when he felt a large hand wrap around his upper arm and yank him back.

“Time to go,  _ agent _ ,” Sam said loudly as he dragged Dean away. He pulled his brother closer and hissed at him, “Next time you think about getting in a pissing contest with a random tween, you might want to remember Karma still needs to work here.”

That stopped Dean short. “Sam,” he said, green eyes clouded with concentration, “why does she work here? I could see her doing one job or the other, but why both?”

With that observation, a couple of pieces of the puzzle snapped into place for Sam. “Let’s get out of here and talk some things over before we try the cops. We need to get a look at those files, and soon.”

Nodding, Dean walked along the hall and out of the building beside his brother, both of them squinting at the bright sunshine. “I saw a diner not too far.”

“Of course you did. Fine with me.”

“Oh, hey,” Dean said, fishing a piece of paper out of his pocket as they approached the Impala. He handed it to Sam. “The girl they found this morning had this drawn on the skin of her stomach. Ever seen it?”

Sam looked closely at the sketch as he folded himself into the passenger seat and closed the door. The lines and curves were tickling something in the back of his brain, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Looks kinda Enochian, but something’s not right.”

“Karma said it’s not Fae,” Dean replied. A twist of his wrist and the Chevy’s engine roared to life. “We tried looking it up on her computer, but the school’s internet kept blocking the sites.” He paused as he checked for oncoming cars, then pulled out of the school lot. “It was almost as annoying as when you set the parental controls on my laptop.”

Sam kept studying the sigil. “Shouldn’t have put hot sauce in my shampoo,” he retorted with a smile, which quickly faded. “What was it drawn with?”

“Couldn’t tell from the picture Karma got. Hopefully we can find out from the cops.” 

“You and Karma find out anything else?”

“Yeah. She’s almost positive those two girls who went missing are virgins, so she’s leaning towards something dark and nasty being behind this. Exactly what, though, she had no idea, but she’s willing to bet significant body parts that symbol was drawn with their blood.” 

Sam nodded. “That’s the impression I got from those girls I interviewed, too. They didn’t just run off; something took them, Dean. Now we just have to figure out what.”

Dean sighed, feeling around for the right words and deciding, as usual, that blunt was better. “She also said you’re way too preoccupied with her to think straight and it’s really freaking her out.”

A blush crept across Sam’s cheeks, but there was definitely more than embarrassment behind the sense of unease he was feeling. “Let me guess: There were just enough tears to make you feel really sorry for her, followed by you feeling compelled to physically comfort her,” he spat out scathingly.

“Woah there,” Dean replied in shock. “The heartless bastard routine is usually my thing. Where’s this coming from? She was--”

“Do you know how she finally pushed me over the edge, got me to sleep with her, Dean?” Sam challenged. “She went all damsel-in-distress, even telling me that you scared her and I made her feel safe. Every instinct said to hold her, make her feel better, so I did. Next thing you know…” he trailed off, staring out of the window and trying to get a handle on his frustration.

Dean didn’t say anything for a while, piloting the Impala along the streets silently until he got back to the main road and spotted the neon and chrome facade he was looking for. He took in the set of his brother’s jaw and sighed. As much as he wanted to yank Sammy’s crank over this, he could see that it was really starting to get to him. Judging by how this case was trending, he needed Sam fully functional, and giving him a ton of crap over something like this wasn’t going to help anything for anyone. Taking a deep breath, Dean pulled into a parking spot, then turned to Sam. “I figured as much, and I appreciate the head’s up, but believe it or not, I don’t think we’re being played here. “

Sam snapped his head around to look at his brother, ochre eyes blazing. “Really, Dean? The women getting hurt just happen to work with her? With missing memories, just like what she did to you? And the girls that went missing are her students? We don’t even know why she has either job, why she’s even here! Add all this to how things went down the last time she was around, it’s not rocket science.” He was practically yelling, his voice filling the car. “So, how about you get your head out of her ass and actually work the damn job!”

Taken aback, Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Sam, man, calm down. You’re beyond overreacting.”

“No, I’m not. I‘m convinced Karma’s involved in all of this, and I need you to back me up.” He searched Dean’s expression, looking for some sign that the older Winchester was seeing reason. Several emotions crossed Dean’s face, but finally, Sam saw grudging acceptance win out. “You’re with me?”

“I’m willing to consider that she’s a part of this,” Dean answered evenly, “but I’m going to need you to embrace the possibility she’s not.”

“Dean--”

“No, you listen. Unless her master plan requires whiskey-pickled blood from an ex-demon and...and a lock of Rapunzel’s hair, why would she call us? Goes against her whole self-preservation motto, for one thing. And for another, one touch from her and we’d be tripping over ourselves to hand our souls over, you especially.” Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Dean cut him off. “I say, we head over to the police station, find out whatever else we can about the attacks, and see where that leads us. There’s still a lot we don’t know.”

Sam’s mouth twisted, his lips pressed together so tightly that they were white, but he nodded. “Alright, let’s get going.”

Peering longingly at the diner, Dean asked, “Right now?” The ferocity of the bitchface Sam shot back at him had him sighing as he put the car in reverse. A quick glance through the back window gave him hope, however. “Hey, since we’re going to the cops, how about we bring some glazed and powdered bribes along to smooth the road?” he proposed to Sam, jerking his head in the direction of a doughnut shop across the parking lot. Sam rolled his eyes but nodded, and Dean tried to contain his glee as they queued up in the drive-thru line.


	6. Takoma Park, MD

**Takoma Park, MD**

Looking through the files and crime scene photos in front of them, all happiness the Winchesters might have felt about how readily the cops acquiesced to their request for information faded quickly. The women had all lived, but it wasn’t pretty.

“How many we got?” Dean asked, studying one of the photos closely.

“Nine total,” Sam responded. “Almost identical. All dancers at the club, all left in the alley behind the club unconscious, all with memory loss despite a lack of evident physical trauma, all with that symbol drawn on their bare stomachs. The only differences are the appearances of the girls and how long they were out.”

Grunting, Dean continued to scan the photos. He paused, and pulled a couple of them side-by-side, green eyes taking in every detail, then widening suddenly. “Sam, take a look at these,” he said, sliding the pictures over to his brother. “The sigils...something’s off.”

Sam looked down at the shots, seeing it almost immediately. “They’re close, but one of these is not the same as the others.” He pulled Karma’s sketch out of his pocket and laid it next to the photos. “These two match the sketch from the victim this morning, but the third…two of the lines curve in different directions.” They quickly checked the remaining photos and found two more victims with the altered rune. Rubbing his large hand over his mouth and chin, Sam sat back in his chair while he let his mind work, processing everything they knew and trying to fill in the blanks. “All drawn in blood?”

Dean pulled a couple of files closer, flipped them open, and nodded after each one. “Yup, not the victims’, no matches in the system, but prelims say it’s from the same person.” He checked the rest of the folders, then looked at Sam, anger seeping into his tone. “The blood on the last two is different from the first seven.”

“So, both students are probably goners then,” Sam observed, allowing his feelings to bleed out a little as well. He quickly sketched the other symbol alongside the first on the note. “We need to figure out what these sigils mean and why these women are being targeted.”

“Right.” Dean looked down as he straightened up the files, then risked a look at Sam from under his long eyelashes. “Still convinced it’s Karma?”

“I still think she’s involved, but I don’t think she’s doing it alone,” he said, standing up from the table. “We need to figure out who her partner is.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean retorted, “Or just figure out who around her could be doing this.”

“Uh huh.” Sam shoved the door open and walked away from Dean. It was all he could do not to slam his brother into the wall.  _ Why is he being so stubborn? Why won’t he listen to me? _ he fumed silently as he stormed through the beehive of activity in the police station and out to their car.  _ It’s this damn big brother bull again! He’s always got to be right when it’s him and me. _ He paced alongside the car, fists clenched so tightly that his fingernails broke the skin of his palms. Sam was so furious, though, that he didn’t even feel it; he also didn’t hear Dean come up behind him.

As he spun on his heel to continue his pacing, Sam saw Dean start to open his mouth. Rage swelled in him and, before he could think, he threw a strong right hook at his brother’s face. He’d moved so fast that Dean didn’t have time to dodge or block the punch; he smiled as his knuckles connected with Dean’s jaw, snapping his head back and causing him to fall to the asphalt beside the Impala. Sam loomed over his prone brother, pulling off his suit jacket to improve his range of motion, taking pride in the hurt, disorientation, and even fear that was evident in Dean’s eyes. As he cocked his arm back for another swing, pain erupted from between his legs and quickly radiated outward. Sam fell against the car as he leaned over, eyes watering and hands immediately going to protect his private areas from any more abuse.

Dean pulled his foot back and scrambled away from the younger man, getting to his feet as he carefully watched for any sign that Sam was going guano again. “What the hell was that?!” he growled, trying not to attract any attention from the cops nearby. He winced as his jaw throbbed. It wasn’t the first time Sam had punched him--probably wouldn’t be the last, either--and Dean was always impressed at how strong his little brother was.

Sam finally looked up, and Dean could see that all of the fury from before was gone, leaving confusion behind. “I...I’m not sure. I was getting annoyed with you--”

“That’s nothing new.”

“Right, but it got way out of control way fast,” Sam finished, standing up straight and wincing at residual aftershocks from the crotch shot. “What the hell’s going on with me lately?”

Dean felt a little bad about hurting his brother like that. He bent over and retrieved Sam’s jacket for him. “Let’s get back to Karma’s and see what we can find out about those sigils. Give you a chance to get your head together and ice down your jewels.”

“Good idea,” Sam said, limping slightly as he rounded the car and sat himself down gently in the passenger seat. Dean tossed the jacket into the backseat and got them headed to their temporary home.

* * * * *

It had been hours since they returned to Karma’s house; afternoon had long since faded into night, the pile of dirty dishes and empty beer bottles grew next to the sink, and the Winchesters still had no idea what those sigils meant. Dean slammed his laptop closed on the coffee table and threw up his hands in disgust. “I’ve been staring at this thing so long my ass is numb and I still have nothing.” Sam didn’t register he’d heard him; he was still perched on a stool at the counter, inched close enough to his computer that Dean could see his brother’s face reflected in the screen. “You got something?”

“Not sure,” Sam replied distractedly, leaning back just enough to hit a few keys before closing back in. “Maybe. Give me a few minutes.”

 Dean got up from the couch, sighing with relief when he felt the pops in his back loosen things up for him. He went to the fridge and grabbed yet another beer, then caught sight of his watch.  _ Yikes, almost two A.M. Middle of the night and I have definitely been seeing too much of each other lately.  _ Looking out into the dark backyard, he took a generous swig from the bottle and wiped his mouth. He continued to stare into the night, letting the blackness soothe his overworked eyes as he took intermittent sips of his beer. 

Finally, Sam spoke. “Got it!” he called to his brother. Dean turned back to the kitchen and crossed to him as Sam continued. “So, get this: they’re modified Celtic runes. It took us so long to figure it out because they’re primarily used in spellwork.”

His eyebrow leapt up. “Spellwork, as in witches?” Dean asked, mentally crossing his fingers that he was wrong.

“Most likely,” Sam said, looking up at his brother. “Specifically, ones that like to hang around with demons.”

“Well, the hits just keep on coming with this case, don’t they?” Dean responded dryly, draining his beer and heading back to the fridge, having decided this news called for yet another one. “What do the runes mean?”

“It looks like the one we’ve seen the most often has to do with demons. It seems to be a hybrid of two different runes, so I can’t be sure.” Sam tapped a few more keys, then shook his head. “I can’t figure out the other one yet, but I’ll keep looking.” 

Before Sam had a chance to lose himself in the search again, they both caught a flash of light from the backyard. Seconds later, a visibly shaken Karma came through the back door, still dressed in her teaching attire. She took in both Winchesters, and they could see how wide her eyes were, the smattering of freckles across her cheeks standing out starkly against skin gone deathly pale. Visibly trembling, she tried to take another step forward but they saw her legs give out; Dean just barely got hands under her before she hit the floor. He scooped the unresisting Karma into his arms and pulled her against his chest, looking over at Sam and seeing a worried expression probably identical to his own. Dean carried her into the living room and gently set her down on the couch, where she wrapped her arms around herself as though she were afraid she’d shake apart. “Karma?” he ventured tentatively.

“Another dancer,” she whispered. “Tonight, outside the club. This one…” Dean watched as she shook her head, unable to form the words.

Dean heard glass clinking in the kitchen, and Sam appeared at his side, holding a healthy shot of something strong towards Karma. She glanced up and reached out to take the drink, but her hand paused midway up as her eyes locked on his. Her trembling stopped as she stood up, getting closer to Sam and continuing to stare as though she were looking right through his brown eyes and into his head. “There’s something wrong with Sam,” she said, her gaze unwavering.

“That’s not news,” Dean said with a snort.

Karma shook her head, still not looking away from the younger man. “Something happened today.” It wasn’t a question.

“I nearly took Dean’s head off earlier today over nothing,” Sam said, setting the drink down, concern creeping across his face the longer she looked at him. “I maybe thought it might have something to do with you and--”

“Dean, can you hold him? I have to touch Sam and I don’t want things to go south.”

Startled, Dean looked at his brother. “I can if you can be quick.”

“Do it.”

Sam put his hands behind his back and tried to relax as Dean wrapped one arm around his waist, the other across his broad chest. Karma approached him warily, and when Sam nodded, she gently laid her hands on his cheeks as they locked eyes again. Lust surged through him, overwhelming him. He strained against Dean, trying to get his hands free so he could reach Karma. Dean hung on for dear life, biceps bulging as he struggled to hold onto Sam. “Any day now, Karma!”

“Almost...there, done.” She stepped back from Sam quickly, and he slumped against Dean. Sitting down on the couch, Sam grabbed the glass from the table and threw back the whiskey he’d brought for her. 

Dean watched as Karma came back from the kitchen with the half-full bottle, refilled Sam’s glass, then took a swig directly from the bottle herself. “What’s up? What did you find?” he asked Karma, a little alarmed.

Taking another healthy swallow, Karma offered him the bottle. “Could be our first real clue, actually,” she responded, moving over to the counter and starting to shuffle through Sam’s things. “Sam, where’s your suit?”

“Jacket’s over there,” he said, pointing to one of the stools, “the rest is in my room. Why?” He shared a puzzled look with his brother.

Karma picked up Sam’s jacket, then promptly dropped it with a yelp as though it burned her. “OK, we’re definitely dealing with a witch.”

The Winchesters looked at each other. Sam killed his refreshed drink while Dean crossed to Karma. She kicked the jacket toward him. “Check for a hex bag,” she said, wrinkling her nose. 

Bending over, Dean snagged the clothing and rifled through the pockets. He paused, looked up at Karma, and flicked his wrist, tossing a stained cloth bag onto the counter. “Jackpot.” As Sam came around the couch to get a closer look, Dean untied the knot holding it closed and unwrapped the contents of the bag. “Blood on the bag itself, some dried herbs, a bone--hope that’s not human--and a rock. Flint?” Sam nodded, then both brothers turned their attention to Karma. “Would this send Sam over the edge?” Dean asked.

“It’s been a couple centuries since I last ran into a witch, and I’ve never practiced myself, but those ingredients certainly aren’t for a good luck charm,” Karma quipped. “Feels like what I saw in Sam’s head. Nasty with a side of blech.” She shuddered.

“Can you tell us anything about the witch?” Sam asked.

Shaking her head, Karma looked at both boys. “Not yet. If I’m nearby when they’re casting, I might be able to match the signatures, but no guarantees.” She caught sight of Sam’s computer and stepped closer, peering at the symbols on the screen. “You guys found the sigil?”

“One of them, we think,” Sam admitted, sitting back down at his laptop. “There’s actually two. I was about to start looking for the other one when you…” he looked over at Karma, concern building on his face as he watched her go pale before his eyes. 

“One of the dancers went outside for a break, found the body, started screaming at the top of her lungs, brought us all outside…”

Another shared look passed between the brothers. “Body?” Dean asked, already knowing the answer.

“Marie, one of the younger girls. She didn’t make it.” Karma sat down next to Sam, set her elbows on the counter and dropped her head into her hands. “We need to figure this out yesterday already.” Lifting her head, she looked at Dean first, then Sam, obstinance taking over the fright in her eyes. “Whoever is doing this is speeding up. I’m afraid they know you’re here and why. There’s only two of us left now, Danielle and me.” Karma clenched her jaw, and Sam saw her eyes go black. “They’re not getting either one of us without a fight.” She slammed her hands down on the counter, then practically launched herself out of the stool. 

Dean stepped in front of Karma and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Woah, there, feistypants. Let’s think this through.” 

“Dean, sweetie,” she said, that calmly menacing tone she’d used earlier made all the more eerie by her still-visible demon side, “I’m either going around you or through you. Your choice.”

“Uh uh, Karma,” Dean countered, “First things first: let’s turn those black eyes blue again, huh? Maybe think first before we go charging directly into what’s sure to be a trap?” Both Karma and Sam looked at him with wide eyes, Karma so surprised he saw hers go back to blue as she stopped struggling against him. “Yeah, I know. Kinda can’t believe that came out of my mouth either. Now, can you travel with someone?”

She considered this for a moment. “I probably couldn’t take you or Sam, but Danielle’s not much bigger than me, so that should work.”

“Good--go get her and convince her to let you take her someplace safe. And maybe talk to your boyfriend about closing the club for a few days, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

All three whirled towards the new voice coming from the direction of the front door. Zane walked slowly toward them, jingling some keys in his raised right hand. “Forget you gave me a key, Lucy?” he asked, his friendly tone not matching the hard glare he was giving the Winchesters. “You were so upset when you left the club, I figured I’d come see if you needed anything.”

Sam’s voice was ice. “We’ve got her covered, thanks.”

“Sammy,” Karma warned.

“Yeah,” Zane responded, ignoring her, “that doesn’t exactly give me the warm and fuzzies, there, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam to you.”

Zane scoffed at that. “Of course, how stupid of me. Don’t get to call you ‘Sammy’ unless you want in my pants, right?”

“You son of a--”

“Enough!” Karma said, her eyes flashing black as both men felt invisible forces pushing against their chests. A blink, and the pressure eased as her eyes cleared. “Zane, they’re right. I need to get Danielle out of here and we need to close the club. It’s too dangerous now, even you have to admit that.”

“Or,” he posited, “I could admit that I might know who lured Marie out of the club, and I think we need to keep things going like usual so we can set up a trap.”

That caught their attention. “How did you…”

Taking his phone out of his pocket, Zane typed in his lock code and handed it over to Dean. “Security video. That guy kept Marie busy all night.” He pointed to a man who looked barely old enough to get into the club, wearing a suspiciously nice suit given the shoddy haircut he was sporting. “Paid cash, so we can’t follow his trail, but I looked at some older videos, and he’s been a regular over the last few weeks.” 

Sam’s mind was whirring as plans started forming. “So we send Lucy his way, get him to buy her company for the night, see if he tries to convince her to go on a field trip outside the champagne room.”

The brothers watched as Zane and Karma shared a look. “One problem with that,” Karma said. 

“What? Pole’s silver-coated?” Dean joked.

Karma sighed. “No, asshat. I’m not a dancer. I’m actually a partner in the club. I sometimes will make an appearance on the floor wearing something scandalous and provide a little entertainment if we have an investor that needs schmoozing, but otherwise, I’m usually dressed a bit more professionally and mostly helping run things from the back. If I try to cozy up to this clown, he’ll know something’s up right away.” 

_ That explains a lot _ , Dean thought to himself. He watched as she started pacing back and forth between the living room and kitchen, arms crossed under her chest, hips swinging pendulously, lower lip caught in her teeth, a look of intense concentration all over her lovely face. Sneaking quick glances at the other two men in the room, he saw he wasn’t the only one distracted by her movements. Sam was at least trying to be discreet; Zane blatantly stared and the bastard flat out licked his lips at one point. Dean felt a possessive growl rise in his chest, but an idea popped into his head that stopped it short of escaping. “Since you play hard-to-get, Danielle would be the next on his list. So, Sam and I go to the club tomorrow night and try to monopolize her. See what he does. If he’s really after her, he won’t let us stop him.”

“Good start, but not quite. I don’t like putting her in danger, so I’ll put myself out on the floor as well. Hopefully this guy will see it as a gift and go after me instead.” Her pacing finally stopped as she turned an appraising eye on him and Sam. Dean was forcefully reminded of race horses being evaluated by buyers. He’d given more than a few of those looks over the years, but he damn sure wasn’t happy to be on the receiving end. “Dean, take Danielle. You’re more her usual type, and since we can’t fill her in about this or she’ll blow it, we need her not to mind you taking up all her time. If the creep tries to horn in, you shift into full-on sleazeball mode, which should send her right to him with neither of them having a clue.” 

“What about me?” Sam asked.

“You get stuck with me. With your height and the vantage from the V.I.P. area, you’ll see the whole club, so we’ll know exactly what’s going on with everyone. You can pull off the investor thing better than Dean, and you don’t do sleazy nearly as well as your brother.”

“Hey!”

A pale eyebrow arched in his direction. “Tell me I’m wrong,” she challenged; Dean grudgingly admitted to himself she had a point and backed down. “If it makes you feel any better, we can introduce you to Danielle as one of Sam’s associates. Should give you some more clout with her, really want her to keep close.”

“And what I am doing in all this? Sitting around with my thumb up my ass?” Zane asked. His face was picture-perfect frustration, and his muscles stood out impressively along his crossed arms.  _ I really can’t stand this male-modeling son of a bitch _ , Dean thought.

“We’ll need you to keep everything smooth at the club so the three of us can focus on nailing this bastard,” Karma said, crossing to Zane. She laid one hand on his forearm as her voice softened. “He’s only been taking women so far, but we both know you’re at risk here, too, Zane. If either one of us is going out on a limb here, it should be me. I still have enough demon trapped in me to be safer to use as bait.”

Brown eyes locked onto green in identical expressions of shock. “You were a vessel?” Sam managed, inspecting Zane under a much different lens now. 

Sighing, Zane nodded, taking a step back from Karma. “It was almost two years ago. The demon left in a hurry and I barely survived, physically and mentally. I had a really hard time relating to people after it happened. I…” he looked to Karma for reassurance; a small smile from her was all it took for him to continue. “I starting hitting strip clubs pretty hard, hiring hookers. Every single one, I connected with in some way that I couldn’t connect with others. Turns out, it was like calling to like. So many of us survivors are broken emotionally by the experience, it’s no wonder I found so many doing...I wanted to help. It gave me a sense of purpose, pulled me out of my funk. I knew too much of a change wouldn’t work, so I bought Halos, starting recruiting former vessels, and tried to create a safe haven where they could maybe work to regain some sense of normal again.” His whole stance softened as Karma snaked her hand around his arm and laid her head on his bicep. “I was trying to distance myself from the dancers to keep things professional, but I ended up coming off rude, and I was starting to push them away. Lucy came in one night, we ended up talking, and within a few hours she was an investor in the club and my new ‘talent management specialist.’ A couple of weeks later, and, well…” He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

Having been ridden by demons and angels, Sam and Dean both found they could relate to a lot of his story. “Lucy’s right, Zane,” Sam said quietly but firmly. “You need to try to stay back from this. We don’t need three targets out there.”

Reluctant acceptance filled his azure eyes as Zane nodded. A small sound from Karma had them all looking toward her, watching as a huge yawn threatened to swallow her face. Sam and Dean watched as Zane wrapped an arm around Karma’s waist, supporting her as they started walking. “I don’t know about you two, but Lucy needs some quality time with her bed. We’ll regroup in the morning. Good night.” Sam kept his eyes glued to the pair as Zane steered Karma into her bedroom. Right before he closed the door, Zane shot a look of triumph back at Sam, a smirk on his face. 

Looking over at his brother, Sam saw how wrecked Dean seemed; the expression on his older brother’s face told him he didn’t appear any better. “We should get to bed, too. We can’t really do anything else tonight--my eyes are way too tired to keep staring at these runes. I’ll miss something.” He closed his laptop and thought for a moment, his gaze back on Karma’s closed bedroom door. Sam would bet all the money in both of their wallets that the brief moment of camaraderie between the brothers and Zane was done, and that he would be taking full advantage of being in Karma’s bedroom with them nearby to assert himself as the Alpha male on premises. 

“Sammy? You still with me?” Dean asked, stifling a yawn.

The layout of the house and the location of their bedrooms upstairs relative to Karma’s flashed through his mind. Being over the kitchen, he would be fine, but Dean would be right on top of them, so to speak. He opened his mouth to warn his brother, remembered the rude awakening he’d gotten that morning, then snapped it shut. “I’m good. Just tired. Sleep tight,” he offered, then followed Dean upstairs to what he hoped would be a decent night’s rest.


	7. Takoma Park, MD

Dean stood over the coffee pot, willing it to fill up faster as a leonine yawn split his face. He heard movement on the stairs and looked over to see his brother coming down, wet hair still dripping a little onto the soft grey t-shirt he was wearing. 

“Coffee?” Sam asked, his voice still rough with sleep. He stifled a yawn of his own while he scratched his stomach and stretched an arm over his head, fingertips nearly brushing the ceiling.

“Soon as this slow-ass thing gets its crap together,” Dean mumbled back. “Looks like your night wasn’t any better than mine. I don’t remember Karma being such a screamer.”

Sam remembered his final thoughts last night and smirked. “I don’t know, Dean. She was pretty loud with me. Maybe it’s just that you’re--”

“Sam, you finish that thought and I will slug you.”

“If you’re going to fight, take it outside, boys. Don’t need to scrub blood out of the tile.” They shared a look as they turned and saw Karma exit the hallway into the kitchen, taking them both in. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you just finished a three-day bender. Everything alright?” she asked, shooing them over to the stools and pulling things out of cabinets to make breakfast. A beep rang out, and she immediately snagged the full coffee pot and placed it on a towel in front of the Winchesters. “Mugs, straws, or IVs?”

“Guess we should be civilized and do mugs,” Sam answered, already cracking his laptop. Watching her flit around the kitchen in the spaghetti-strapped, mint-green sundress she was wearing was messing with his focus even more than the lack of sleep, and Sam knew he needed to be on point today. 

“Dean?”

The older Winchester glared at Karma. “How the hell are you so functional right now?” he growled, snatching the offered mug from her hand and pouring himself a healthy dose of the dark brown ambrosia as she set a mug for Sam and two plates in front of them. “You got even less sleep than I did.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, measuring pancake mix and dumping it into a floral-patterned ceramic bowl. “I was so wiped I barely had the energy to put in my earplugs before I passed out and I completely slept through Zane leaving. I didn’t even change out of my clothes from yesterday until I got a shower this morning.” She added water and some other things he didn’t quite catch to the bowl, then started whisking vigorously.

Brown and green eyes filled with confusion followed her as she moved toward the stove and set the bowl down. “Earplugs?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, Zane snores like a semi. Why?” Turning away from them, she crouched down to root through a cabinet next to the oven.

“You can drop the act, Karma. I think half the neighborhood heard you two last night.”

“Seriously, Dean, what are you talking about?” came from the cabinet, her voice slightly muffled.

Sam looked up from his screen. “You and Zane, Karma. You were enjoying yourself so loudly that I had to sleep with a pillow over my head to block it out.”

Nodding, Dean added, “I wasn’t even that lucky, but it is nice to know I’m not the only one who likes to be talked dirty to in Spanish.”

She stood up then, a griddle pan in one hand and a very puzzled look on her face. “Dreaming about me having sex with someone else is a new one for me, boys. You got kinks you need to…Spanish?” Sudden understanding crossed her face, and she just about slammed the pan onto the stove and wrenched the knob to start the heat underneath it. “I’ll be right back.” Sam and Dean shared another one of their looks as Karma stormed into her bedroom, swore creatively, and came back out with her phone up to her ear. She scoffed and shook her head. “Voicemail, really, Zane? You frigging coward. By the way the speakers are still pointed towards the ceiling and the Casa Erotica DVD is still in the player where you left it. I swear when this job is done, I’m going to have you, Dean, and Sam all drop trou at the same time so we can settle this whole thing before one of you actually tries to claim territory by peeing on my floor.” 

Screaming through clenched teeth, she hung up the call and tossed her phone onto the counter. “Men,” she spat out with venom as she ladled batter onto the hot griddle. “Should just go back to women for a while,” Karma muttered to herself.

Eyebrows raised at that last part, Sam started, “Wait, you...nevermind.” He watched as she let her head fall back with an exasperated sigh, then turned a glare on the two of them. 

“If I promise to tell you both all about it in explicit detail later, can you please quiet down your thoughts and focus? We have work to do.” They nodded and her face softened. “Sam, got anything else about those sigils?” she inquired as she flipped the pancakes.

“Yeah, actually,” he responded, turning his computer so she and Dean could look at the screen. “The first one--the one on most of the victims--was related to demons. So I ran with a hunch and it looks like the other one probably relates to angels.”

Karma examined the screen thoughtfully. “Which women had the angel sigil?”

He checked his notes. “Muse, Hallie, and Taylor.”

Her eyes flicked back and forth between the screen and the sketch of the sigil Sam had. “They were all angel vessels; Marie too. Sam, those girls were the ones who took the longest to recover. Marie didn’t…” She stopped herself, turned back to the stove, then deftly stacked the pancakes on the spatula and carried them over to the boys, splitting them between the two plates before turning away again. She came back with forks and maple syrup. “Whatever this witch is doing, it must originally be a ritual or spell involving demons. They’re rigging it for angels, and seems like it’s not a great fit.” 

Dean drizzled a generous helping of syrup on his plate and dug in as Sam slid his laptop to the side and did the same. He moaned around the first mouthful, green eyes rolling in delight at the flavors that slid across his taste buds. 

“You two want to be alone?” Karma quipped with a laugh, getting the next round going in the pan.

“Don’t listen to her, baby,” Dean crooned to his plate as he prepped another forkful. “Karma’s just jealous because you’re doing things to me she never could.”

“Really? Because I certainly don’t recall you gasping ‘oh pancakes’ repeatedly that night,” she retorted. 

He answered with a grunt, then swallowed, a thought clearly occurring to him. “Since you brought up names, what’s the deal with yours? Zane or us getting the alias?” Sam stopped shoveling in his breakfast long enough to join his brother in examining Karma as she formulated her reply.

“Both of you, actually. Like with most supernatural beings, having my real name would give you power over me that I’m not too comfortable with,” she shared, doling out more doughy ecstasy onto their plates before setting the utensil down, propping her elbows on the counter and resting her chin on her hands. “Karma is what I usually go by, but traditionally colleges and other schools prefer something more mundane. Lucy Ferris is the name on my teaching certificate, so that’s what I’ve been going by since I got here.”

“Why teaching, by the way?” Sam asked, genuinely curious.

A hint of a blush colored her cheeks. “After everything that happened with you guys, I was feeling like I wasn’t much better than the demon you took out for me. Teaching has always made me feel useful, and this time around it helped me realize I’m not a complete sociopath with no morals, that I’m a lot more than just my demon side. I needed the time to get grounded again.” Catching sight of Dean’s watch, she stood up. “Speaking of which, I need to get going soon or I’m going to be late to work. Sam, can you hand me a pen and some paper?”

“Sure thing,” he replied, digging both out from the pile of research next to him and handing them over. “What’s up?”

They watched as she wrote down a name and address. “If we’re going to pull this thing off tonight, you two are going to need some new clothes. You don’t have anything that would cut it for passing as potential investors,” she said, sliding the paper and pen back to Sam. “Go to this store and ask for Maxim. He’ll hook you up. Whatever he says goes, understand?” She focused most of her attention on Dean with the last part.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you are not going to like it, but you need to put on your big boy undies--plus whatever else Maxim picks out for you--and deal. And no trying to use price as an excuse, either. He’ll charge everything to me.”

“Oh, so what--you’re our sugar mama now? What do you get out of it?”

“Could be the sight of your fabulous ass in a great pair of pants. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s getting this most recent round of death and destruction out of my life as quickly as possible,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “Jury’s still out on this one.”

Sam snorted, and Dean sent a death look his way before responding to her. “I’ll play ball, alright. Sooner we get this figured out, the sooner we get away from you.”

“Love you too, jackass,” Karma said brightly, spinning away from them. Candy-apple eyes tracked her as she moved fluidly around the kitchen, setting the pan and bowl in the sink and putting the syrup back in the fridge. They followed her down the hallway into her bedroom, and again as she emerged a few moments later, pulling on a short-sleeved white cardigan. “I’m off. Text me if you figure anything else out. Otherwise, I’ll meet you at the club tonight.” She grabbed her phone and a small black purse, then blew them a kiss before heading out the back door. A brief flash told them she was gone.

Dean looked out the window pensively. “Wonder how she explains the whole zapping thing at work?”

“We finish this up, you can ask her,” Sam responded distractedly. “In the meantime…”

“Research. Awesome.” Dean grabbed their plates and forks and took them over to the sink. Without thinking, he started washing everything that was there. Dean always seemed to think best when his hands were busy, and he didn’t want to get too used to Karma waiting on them.  _ Not gonna lie, though, it has been really nice being taken care of a little. _ He rinsed the griddle pan, then looked at it a little more carefully and saw it wasn’t quite clean. He turned the water on hotter and scrubbed more vigorously, but it took three more washes and rinses before all of the residue from whatever she’d greased the pan with disappeared.  _ Can’t believe that much crap was left behind… _ “Son of a bitch!” he shouted, whirling around.

“What?” Sam responded, body tensing. “Something in the backyard?”

Dean shook his head. “After you kicked Gadreel out, he left some of his grace behind, right?”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to help the vessel heal after the angel exits. Cass tried to take it out for that spell and it nearly…” Sam’s eyes widened as realization set in. “You think the witch is pulling the leftovers out of the vessels for something.”

“Yup, and I seriously doubt it’s for the vessel’s benefit.” Dean finished up the dishes as Sam dove back into the search, then settled down on the couch with his own laptop to help. 

A few hours passed, their focus only broken for bathroom trips, a quick sandwich break, and a phone call to the police precinct to make sure they had the details on the latest victim correct. Dean sat back from his laptop, scanning the information on his screen while rubbing a hand across the back of his neck to work out a kink. Finally, something jumped out at him. “Sammy?”

“Yeah, Dean? Find something?”

“I think so. It’s a Druidic spell for purification. Look--same symbol as the first one.” He picked his computer up and carried it to his brother. 

Sam leaned in close, his eyes widening. “Huh. Specifically for use after demon possession, so it probably cleans out the last of the demon energy from the host. Seems more likely than anything I’ve found.” Staring intently, he unconsciously scrubbed a hand across his mouth while his brain worked furiously. “If it was modified for angels, it would remove the residual grace, but that’s sketchy under the best of circumstances. Add in a witch corrupting Druidic practices...”

“Alright, so we’ve got the what and the how but we’re still drawing blanks on the who and why.” Dean glanced at the laptop’s clock. “Crap, we’ve still got to hit that store and get all gentrified for tonight.”

“I’m surprised at you, Dean,” Sam said, a wide smile spreading across his face. “We’re headed to a strip club tonight and you don’t sound at all excited.”

“Ha, ha. Shouldn’t have to put on a monkey suit just to stick singles in some girl’s--”

“I get the idea that these girls have a higher minimum ante, which means you might have to actually step up your game.” Sam stood and stretched, and Dean tried not to be annoyed that his brother’s joints didn’t pop like firecrackers the way his did. “Let’s get going.”

Dean grabbed the keys to the Chevy and they made their way out.


	8. Silver Spring, MD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a part in this chapter that rides the line of consent due to supernatural influences. Events don't progress far but just in case, I've put a "fence" before and after so anyone who feels they need to avoid it can. You won't miss much in the way of plot, as you get clued into what happened afterward.

**Silver Spring, MD**

“I feel like a tool.”

Sam bit back a laugh, looking over at his brother as they walked away from the Impala. He’d been listening to Dean complain practically non-stop from the minute they’d entered Upscale Male and met Maxim, but he knew most of it was his usual bluster. Personally, Sam thought they both looked better than they had in a long time. Maxim definitely knew his stuff. Less than a minute after he first saw them, Maxim threw them in the dressing room with a shirt and a suit each, then he and an assistant started pinning and poking to tailor the already well-fitting clothes. One look at their hair and faces had Maxim insisting they hit the salon next door for trims and hot shaves (also on Karma’s tab) while their garments were finished up. There had been a tense moment when the stylist approached Sam with scissors in her hands, but she solemnly swore she would only give him a “clean-up” and he relented. He really liked the way his gray suit and light blue polo set off his hair and how the tailoring on his clothes emphasized the trim waist he worked so hard for.  _ Can’t wait to see the look on Karma’s face, that’s for sure. _

He’d never admit it, but Dean had enjoyed a lot more of the last couple of hours than he’d expected. He knew from experience that his eyes were one of his best features, and he’d be damned if the combination of the brown suit and grass colored v-necked t-shirt he was wearing didn’t really highlight them. Running his hand over his incredibly smooth cheeks and chin, Dean allowed, “The shave thing was kind of nice. Like a baby’s ass over here.” He was rewarded by Sam laughing out loud. It was good to hear the carefree sound; the younger Winchester was entirely too serious too much of the time. 

They approached the nondescript building where the club was housed; it was surrounded by what appeared to be office buildings and parking garages. The only indications they had the right place were a small neon sign above the door with a winged halo and devil’s horns and the sizable bouncer standing underneath it. Unlike the gate guys they usually saw at these places, this one was wearing an expensive suit like theirs and had a high-tech earpiece. When they got to the door, Sam reluctantly introduced them as Black and Cullen (there’d been a heated debate in the car as to which of them was which), the man repeated the names into his headset, and a moment later they were admitted inside.

The vestibule they entered was also very nondescript--black and white tiled floor, black wood paneling on the walls, a few black chairs, and a small black pedestal in front of a black velvet curtain that led further inside. Loud music with a heavy bass presence filtered through the curtain as they approached the leggy brunette in a tight black dress who was standing at the pedestal to greet them. 

“Welcome to Halos and Horns, gentlemen,” she said brightly. “Mr. Reynolds will be out in a moment to see you. Please, have a seat.” 

They barely had time to get comfy before one of the wall panels opened to reveal a door. Zane walked out and saw them immediately. The smile plastered on his face seemed genuine as he approached them with his hand out. “Mr. Black,” he said to Dean, shaking his hand, then he turned to Sam. “And this must be Mr. Cullen. It’s wonderful to meet you both.” He gestured toward the open door. “If you’ll just step into my office for a moment?”

Sam barely managed not to scowl and kept his voice remarkably light. “Our pleasure, Mr. Reynolds.” Seeing the unholy glee in Dean’s eyes, Sam was suddenly very glad they’d decided that, since he was playing the potential investor, he should do all of the talking when people were around.  _ Wonder if he or Karma made that call _ , he thought as they followed him. 

He ushered them into an office that was very similar to the vestibule and closed the door behind them. The smile dropped from his face with alarming speed as he walked over to his desk, sat on the edge, and glared at them. Dressed in all black, he nearly blended in with his office except for his face and his arms, which nearly glowed in the low light from the desk lamp behind him. A quick glance over their improved appearances had him scowling. “You two clean up alarmingly well,” he finally said.

Dean couldn’t help but smile at Zane’s obvious annoyance. “That Maxim guy is a miracle worker, huh? We’re looking better than you tonight.” He closed in on Zane, lips twisting into his cockiest grin. “Be real interested to see what Lucy thinks.”

He watched as Zane’s jaw tightened, but the expected retort didn’t come. “I’m about to take you through to the club,” he said instead. “Please remember that you don’t know Lucy, and this is a much classier place than you’re used to, so act like it.” He stood up from the desk and took both of them in. “Also, she gave her word that you’d leave my...less human customers alone. I expect you to keep it.” 

The Winchesters shared a look, then nodded reluctantly. Zane walked over to the wall and opened another hidden door, flooding the office with colored light and throbbing rock music. The door opened onto a wide balcony peppered with black leather couches and large matching chairs arranged around small tables; judging by the high quality of the furniture, the patrons’ attire, and the lack of crowd, Dean assumed this was the V.I.P. area. Zane led them to a pair of chairs by the railing, where they peered over to see everything going on below them. Two runway-style stages with gleaming poles, both currently occupied, flanked a bar teeming with glass bottles of all shapes and sizes. The chairs along the stages and around the room were all filled, and they could see waitresses in angel and devil lingerie threading their way around the floor. 

Liking what he saw on the floor, Dean starting taking in more of their fellow V.I.P.s around the balcony. There were a few dancers up there; most of them were engaged in conversation with the men around them. He spotted one from the back that looked promising, and he nudged Sam. Her white shirt was long-sleeved but skin tight and completely sheer. They could just make out a plaid bra underneath that probably matched the deliciously short red and black plaid pleated skirt she was wearing. Lace-topped white thigh-highs led down to what appeared to be shiny black heels. Dean was especially attentive to the low pigtails she’d styled her hair into when they both noticed Zane was standing next to her. They watched him whisper in her ear, and when she turned, they both groaned.  _ Of course _ , Sam thought. 

Karma spun around completely, looking towards where Zane was gesturing, and the boys got the full view. The bra definitely matched the skirt, and it seemed dangerously small for its assigned duty. Sam and Dean could tell the exact moment she found them; her eyes widened and she bit her red-painted lower lip as she took them in. Apparently, Zane had also noticed because he wrapped an arm tightly around her waist while he steered her over to them. 

She recovered from her shock and swiftly switched gears from tempted to temptress. She put some extra sway in her hips and heat in her gaze, and as she stopped in front of them, Karma smiled in a way that made them both feel very much like cornered prey. Sam was surprised to see her extend her hand in greeting. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cullen,” she said in a warm tone that felt like a caress as she shook Sam’s hand briefly. “And you as well, Mr. Black,” she continued, turning to Dean. 

He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought it quickly to his lips and brushed a light kiss across her knuckles as he held her eyes with his. “Always happy to bring a beautiful woman pleasure,” he responded. Dean was rewarded with a clench of Zane’s jaw and nearly crowed with triumph when Karma stepped closer to him. 

As she placed her hands on his chest and leaned into him, her eyes flashed black, and Dean knew his victory was over. “Either cut the macho posturing or I cut you,” Karma growled against his ear. He almost convinced himself it was only the feel of her warm breath on his skin that made a shiver run through him, and definitely not at all due to the acid in her words.  _ Nope, not afraid of a chick half my size. Nope, nope nope. _

Chuckling, Karma stepped back, blue eyes returning. “Zane, I spotted our movie star coming in when we came over. I think now would be a great time to introduce Mr. Black to Danielle before she’s otherwise occupied.” He nodded and he walked off without waiting for Dean. The older Winchester scrambled to follow him. Rolling her eyes, she turned to Sam, the picture of charm and allure. “I’ll take good care of Mr. Cullen in the meantime.”

Sam groaned inwardly but managed to maintain outward calm as he sat down in a chair that gave him a straight-on view of most of the floor. He knew this was all part of the job, and he knew they needed to be convincing, but he’d never been turned on by a handshake before.  _ I should be fine as long as-- _

His whiskey-hued eyes widened in surprise as Karma walked past the chair next to him and sat herself down on his leg instead. She slid her hand up his chest and over his shoulder, leaning back against his arm for support, then took his free hand and set it on her knee. Her very flirtatious smile was in place, but her voice was all business. “You good?” she asked.

Surprisingly, he was. His pulse was up a few notches, but nothing more than he’d expect with a beautiful woman in his lap. “How…?”

“No skin-to-skin,” she said simply. “Now, I have eyes on the entrance from here. Can you see Dean and the video guy?”

“Yeah, I can see pretty much everything. There’s some stuff I can’t see over you even with you being so short.”

Snorting, she flashed him a calculatedly petulant look. “I told you it’s ‘fun-sized’, Sasquatch.” Karma snuggled into his chest and looked up at him from under thick lashes. “Better?”

_ God, she’s so warm. Focus, Sam. _ “Yeah, much.” He cleared his throat, then amended, “View’s clear.” He scanned the floor, keeping Dean and their target in his sight. “Usually cuddle with your clients?” he asked, keeping the conversation going for their cover.

He felt her laugh. “First time like this, but we needed to be able to talk freely over the music, so I took a leap and asked the girls for pointers with a client who has a daddy kink. Turned out to be perfect for this.”

Dropping his eyes to hers briefly, he saw them sparkle with mischief before going back to keeping watch. “Nice,” he said flatly. “Go along with the whole naughty schoolgirl getup?”

Karma twirled a finger around one of the pigtails as she answered, “Yup. Now, can you please smile and tighten your arm around me? You know, act like you’re enjoying this?” Sam did as she asked, and they sat in mostly-comfortable silence for a few minutes. Karma started idly tracing the fingers of one hand over his chest as she monitored those entering and exiting. Sam noticed he was doing the same thing on her leg, and he wondered if she was feeling the same small thrills that her touch was sending through him. His pride certainly hoped so.

Sam shoved those unnecessary thoughts down as he saw Dean look up at him from next to Danielle. His brother nodded quickly, then he watched Dean turn back to the dancer and speak briefly to her. She pointed over his shoulder to the restrooms and when he turned, she slapped his ass flirtatiously. Dean threw his head back and laughed, then made his way toward the bathrooms. Nudging Karma that they were making their move, Sam tried to figure out how to discreetly keep an eye on the floor while trying to look like he was paying more attention to her.

Fortunately, Karma had a solution. Unfortunately for Sam, it involved her climbing into his lap and straddling his hips. “Can you see Danielle over my shoulder?” she asked, starting to move her torso in time to the music. He rested his hands on her hips, being very careful to avoid the stretch of pale stomach revealed as her shirt rode up with each twist of her body.

“Yeah, actually,” he said. “Camouflage by stripper?”

“Bro code to the rescue,” she answered, propping her hands behind her on his knees and arching her back. “Bad form to watch another guy get a lap dance, so the people who look long enough to think it’s weird you’re not glued to my boobs are people we need to watch out for.”

Sam laughed, then refocused on Danielle as she walked past the bar and ducked behind a black curtain there. “What’s behind the bar?”

“Dressing room,” Karma said, running her hands up her body and ruffling her hair. “Danielle?”

“Yeah. Any way we can get eyes on her without blowing cover?”

“Absolutely--just follow my lead.” Karma slid off his lap, stood up, and backed away from him slowly, crooking her finger. Sam took the hint and stood himself, getting close to her. She tucked her arm into his elbow and steered him around the circular balcony and over to an enclosed stairwell on the other side. Once they were out of view of the others, Sam took the lead down the stairs. He saw Karma avoiding the railing, and couldn’t blame her; it was a heavy, wrought-iron structure that looked great but would have burnt the skin off of her hands.

They rounded a corner at the landing and Dean came into view at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, she went in there,” he said, pointing at a door with a large “No Admittance” sign. “Is there a way outside from there?”

Karma nodded. “Employee entrance is on the other side of the dressing rooms. We can sneak out of the fire door at the end of this hallway. Alarm’s never worked as far as I can tell.”

“Where’s the guy?” Dean asked.

“Still on the floor.”  Sam’s face was pensive, his mind racing. “One of us should go out after Danielle in case his partner is out there and one should stay to see if our guy does anything.”

“Sam, you stay and keep eyes on Karma. She’s still a target and it’ll tip him off if she’s suddenly with me. I’ll go after Danielle and see what I can find.” 

“Where’s Zane? He’s a target, too,” Karma said, a little bit of worry creeping into her voice.

Dean tried to be reassuring. “After he hooked me up with Danielle he said he was locking himself in his office. Haven’t seen him since.” He looked down the hall at the exit door. “I’m heading out. I’ll call if something comes up.”

Sam and Karma nodded, then she stepped off the stairs and walked to the curtain. “Let’s see what our friend is up to.” Peering around the edge, she straightened in alarm. “He’s coming this way,” she hissed at Sam. They both looked around for cover and saw none; the hallway was stark. Karma moved quickly toward Sam. “Follow my lead and keep your hands on fabric at all times.”

“What--” Sam barely had time to think before she grabbed his biceps and spun them both, pulling him against her as she backed into the wall next to the curtain. Gripping his lapels, she yanked his head down to her shoulder. Realization kicked in; Sam braced one hand against the wall above her head, his mouth hovering by her neck as he desperately tried to figure out a reasonable and safe place for his other hand. “Sorry,” he whispered as he smoothed down the back of her skirt before cupping his large palm against her ass.

“Not a bad idea. Hope it looks as convincing as it feels,” Karma whispered back. They both saw the curtain twitch, and Sam tried to keep it together as she laid her head back against the wall and moaned.  _ Focus, Sam, job, do the job, focus. _

Their target came into the hallway and only gave them the briefest of glances; his attention was clearly on the exit. Sam moved the hand on the wall to Karma’s back, bringing her closer to him and making it easier to track the man as he walked past them toward the door. He was so focused on the receding shaggy blonde hair and too-large suit that, when he felt Karma’s leg slide up the outside of his, autopilot took over and he instinctively responded by sliding his hand down her thigh. His long fingers found warm skin at the gap between skirt and stockings. 

*****Here be consent issues--you've been warned.*****

In a second, months of pent up frustration were unleashed. Karma’s protests didn’t even register with Sam as he took hold of the back of her thighs with both hands and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist while he practically slammed her into the wall. Sam shifted his grip and freed up a hand to roughly take hold of her face, smashing his lips to hers and silencing her. He smiled against her mouth and turned them around, carrying her over to the railing and sitting her on top of it to free up his other hand. 

Karma tried to scream, but Sam captured the sound as he ruthlessly plundered her mouth. He registered the taste of blood and realized he must have cut her lip in his vigor. Some small part of him cringed, but most of him couldn’t have cared less as both hands roamed her body freely, tearing at clothes and scrambling for more skin, more contact, more  _ her _ .

Suddenly, her fingers were in his hair, knitting themselves in his long locks. He felt Karma melt into him, returning his kiss with equal enthusiasm as she tightened her legs around his waist.  _ Finally on board, _ he thought briefly before bringing his hands back down underneath her skirt. He felt more fabric give way, then he lifted her off of the railing and moved to lay her out on the floor. Breaking their kiss, Sam leaned away from Karma and looked into her eyes. Even in his insanely aroused state, he registered the pity he saw there and it made him pause. Before he could do anything else, her hands moved to his temples, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Sam,” and everything went black.

*****All good now--be on your way to the next chapter.*****

 


	9. Silver Spring, MD

“Sam! Sam!”

Consciousness bloomed slowly in Sam’s mind. Pounding throbbed through his head, and he wanted to punch whoever was shaking him for making it worse. With effort, he pulled his eyes open and eventually registered his brother’s presence. “Dean?” he asked hoarsely.

The older Winchester sighed in relief. “Scared the Hell out of me. Sam, what the Hell happened?”

Wincing, Sam slowly sat up. He was on a couch in an unfamiliar room; a long counter covered in various bottles and fabrics stretched beneath well-lit mirrors along one wall. Dean was on one knee beside him; Zane was standing nearby, arms crossed, hands clenched, and murder in his sapphire eyes. “I’m trying to remember,” he said softly. “God, my head’s killing me.”

“Good,” Zane spat, his hand flashing as he threw something at Sam’s feet. Both Winchesters took in the torn white fabric on the floor. They saw lace, and satin, and...

Green eyes as wide as saucers, Dean whispered, “Are those…?”

“Lucy’s. They were clutched in Sam’s hand when I found him.” His whole body vibrated with barely-contained rage. “What did you do?”

“He didn’t…” Dean trailed off as he watched the color drain from Sam’s face. “Sam?” he asked gently.

Everything came rushing back, and Sam started to shake. “He was going to find us, so we pretended to...she told me...she trusted me.” His voice broke and he dropped his head. “I don’t know how she stopped me, but if she hadn’t…” Sam radiated guilt as he stared at his shoes. “Please tell me you got something out of this?” he pleaded.

He hated to do it, but Dean shook his head. “Guy we were watching is just a dealer, Sam. He followed Danielle outside because she’s one of his customers. She and Allison--that tall chick we interviewed--bought something off him, then they walked one way and he went the other. I followed them for a bit, but when I tried calling you to let you know, you didn’t answer. I got worried, came back in and Zane was trying to wake you up…” Dean trailed off. 

“And we have no idea where Lucy is or if she’s even alive right now,” Zane growled. “For all we know the witch was waiting outside, and she was probably in no shape to fight after--”

“Hello, boys.”

Dean and Zane swiveled around and Sam’s head shot up as Karma’s voice came from the exit across the dressing room. Sam struggled to breathe at the sight of her. Both of her shoes were gone, and every piece of clothing she was wearing was torn in some way. Through the holes he could see long red marks where he’d scratched her, hard enough to draw blood in some places. Her mouth was swollen, dried blood clinging to her chin underneath the cut he’d made on her lower lip.  _ I did that, all of that.  _ Nausea and shame welled up in him with equal force as he remembered how turned on he had been at her struggles, the taste of her blood. His mouth worked soundlessly as Sam tried his best to find the words, anything at all he could say…

Zane found his voice first. “Lucy,” he whispered, moving toward her.

“No!” Karma threw up her hands and shrunk back into the doorway. “No one comes near me, got it? None of you.” There was steel in her voice, but none of them missed the way her hands trembled, or how tightly she wrapped her arms around herself once she was sure they’d stay put. Her eyes darted between the three of them, and Dean clearly saw pain and fear when they found Sam. “Listen carefully, because I’m not repeating myself and none of this is negotiable. Understand?” They all nodded, and she continued. “Allison is one of them. After…”

All three men held their breath as she looked down and stopped, but she clenched her jaw and raised her head. Meeting Dean’s gaze, Karma locked onto his green eyes as she continued. “I was running away from the club when I could feel the same essence from the hex bag. I followed it into one of the unfinished parking high-rises they’re building nearby. She had Danielle...she was pulling out the remaining demon residue and taking it into herself. She seemed too far into whatever she was doing that I couldn’t stop her safely, so I waited until she was done. 

“When she saw me, I told her I knew what she was doing, told her what Sam...why it happened. I begged her to help me. She agreed right away--guess I look pretty pathetic--” Sam visibly flinched and her eyes flicked to him briefly, but she continued without comment. “She said I have too much demon left in me to handle it by herself, so she needs her partner. I’m supposed to be sending Sam and Dean away with strict instructions to clear out by morning and stay gone. My plan, however, is for you two to look like you’ve cleared out, but wait nearby so you can come back for the ritual tomorrow night. At the end of the ritual, before the demon essence has a chance to fully meld with her body, there should be a few moments where she’s weakened. That would be the best time to strike. Get Allison, get whoever she’s working with, and get ourselves the Hell out of there.”

Dean shook his head, and opened his mouth to protest. Zane was about to join him when Karma’s eyes went black; they clamped their mouths shut. “Did I stutter? I said no arguing. Anyone who doesn’t like the plan can shove their objections up their asses.” Both he and Zane put all of their dissent into their expressions instead. She ignored them completely, looking at Sam with an unreadable expression on her face. “I’m going home. I’d steer clear of me for the next twenty-four hours if you have any plans to hold onto your manhood for the foreseeable future.” 

As she turned to go, their eyes all widened at the vivid red welts across the backs of her thighs. Disgust at himself welled up in Sam’s eyes. Both Dean and Zane turned to see him drop his head into his hands.

“Another gift from you?” Zane asked. 

“The railing,” Sam answered then stopped, unable to continue.

Dean watched those blue eyes fill with derision as Zane stared at Sam a moment longer before switching his attention to him. He watched as Zane’s whole face clouded over while he advanced on the older Winchester. “If either of you gets her killed tomorrow night, it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” he said, looking Dean straight in the eye. “And tell your brother that no matter what happens, if I ever see him again after this is finished, he’s done for.”

A switch flipped inside Dean, and he immediately went into Big Brother Mode. “You do that, you’ll have to get through me,” he threatened, getting into the other man’s face.

There was no mercy in Zane’s gaze or tone. “Even better,” he snarled. He shoved his shoulder into Dean as he stormed past him and out of the dressing room and back into the club area. 

Dean watched him go, counted to five, then followed him. He returned moments later with a bottle of liquor in his hand. “C’mon, Sam, we’re going.” He hauled him up off of the couch and handed the booze to this brother. “Drink up, and don’t stop until you’re completely wasted.”

Sam tried to push the bottle away. “Really, Dean? I don’t think--”

Grabbing his chin, Dean forced Sam to look at him. “No, you do think. You think too damned much, and that’s a problem tonight. I don’t even need to be a frigging psychic to know you’re shouting all kinds of crap all over the place from your head, and she really doesn’t need to hear any more of it.” He realized he was yelling, so he quieted his voice. “We need to go back there, even if it’s just to get our stuff, and I need to know she’ll be safe while we’re there. You don’t want to--”

“No,” Sam said, whipping his head back and forth. “No.” Dean held the bottle out again, and he took it, opened it right away, and took a generous swig. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Sam looked at his brother. “I know this is usually more you than me, but can we definitely not talk about any of this anytime soon?”

“Whatever you want, man.” Dean put an arm around the younger man and steered him out of the club and back to the waiting Impala.


	10. Takoma Park, MD

The car ride back to Karma’s was silent; Dean didn’t even look at the radio, let alone turn it on. Sam just stared out the passenger window the whole time, taking regular drinks. As he pulled into the driveway, Dean saw that Sam had finished more than two-thirds of the whiskey during the ride. “How you doing, Sammy?”

“Mostly drunk,” he said slowly, his words a little unclear. “Maybe not drunk enough, though.” He tipped the bottle back again, then looked out into the darkness beyond his window. “Maybe never drunk enough,” he mumbled, too softly for Dean to catch as he climbed out of the car.

Walking along the side of the house, Dean could see the light was still on in Karma’s bedroom. The internal argument started up again.  _ Her plan’s a good one, but she’s going to get herself killed. She knows how to handle herself, but we can’t let her put herself out there like that,  _ and on and on, round and round with no clear resolution easing his mind. Letting himself into the house quietly, he made his way upstairs, gathered their clothes, and then went back downstairs to pack up the gear there. It only took a few minutes--side effect of needing to beat more than a few hasty retreats--but Dean felt himself lingering, his eyes moving more and more to the hallway off the kitchen and the blade of light he could see under the door at the end. He closed up Sam’s laptop bag, put it with the others by the back door, and made a decision. 

Dean moved down the hallway and towards Karma’s bedroom. He mentally crossed his fingers that she wouldn’t hex the crap out of him-- _ Do faeries hex people even? _ \-- and knocked on her door. “Karma?” he called softly.

“Go. Away.”

“C’mon, open up.”

He could almost hear her eyes rolling. “What language do I have to say it in for you to understand? Go away!”

“Not gonna happen. Are going to let me in or am I getting my lock picks?”

A loud sigh, then, “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term ‘persistent’ but whatever floats your boat.”

Another sigh made its way through the door. “It’s not actually locked, asshat.”

Smirking, Dean opened the door. “Not usually what I hear when invited into a woman’s…” The smile dropped from his face and he sat heavily on the edge of her bed as he got a good look at Karma. She was sitting on a small armchair tucked into a corner by one of her windows. Her hair was damp and tousled, her body wrapped in a soft-looking cotton bathrobe that had faded from use into a pale lilac. Karma had her feet on the seat of the chair, arms wrapped around her legs; the welts on the backs of her thighs were still raw-looking and the swelling of her lip evident in the soft light from the small lamp by her bed. She was gazing out of the window beside her. Dean knew she could see the Impala from there; he wondered if she could see, or feel, Sam.

He didn’t have to wonder long. “How’s Sam holding up?” she asked, not taking her eyes from the view.

Dean scoffed in disbelief. “How’s Sam? What he did to you, and you’re asking about him?”

Karma looked at him then, and he almost wished she hadn’t; there was so much anguish and self-loathing in her eyes that it was almost like looking into a mirror. “What he did? What I  _ made _ him do, Dean. That needs to be very clear. I heard every single thought going through Sam’s head, and your brother had no control over his actions because of me.  _ I _ made the horrible choices that got us here.  _ I _ slept with him, knowing what could happen later.  _ I _ suggested Sam be the one to stay with me at the club.  _ I _ knew he hadn’t slept with anyone since me and exactly what that could do to him.  _ I _ decided we should fake getting physical to throw that guy off.  _ I _ got cocky and told myself he couldn’t do anything to me that I couldn’t handle quickly.” Tears welled in her eyes and spilled unchecked down her pale cheeks. “ _ I _ almost took your brother’s soul. It’s  _ my _ fault he’s out there, drunk off his ass and wracked with guilt.” She looked away from him and back out the window.

He couldn’t say exactly why, but Dean was suddenly furious with her. “So, you’re going to put yourself out there and probably get yourself killed as what? Some twisted form of penance?” he yelled, storming over to stand in front of Karma. “That why you’re not healing yourself either?”

“I have a better chance of making it than most, Dean. And I can’t heal myself because they don’t know about my faery side; it should actually protect me from whatever they do.”

He swallowed hard, holding onto her eyes with his own. “And if it doesn’t?”

“You don’t get it, Dean,” she said simply, her voice intensely weary.

Hearing her like that calmed him a little. “Help me understand, then.”

“I’m over seven hundred years old, Dean. You know what it’s like to move around a lot, but I’ve been doing it for fifteen or more of your lifetimes. I’ve dealt with having to leave to hide what I am, but it ends up being mostly to keep people safe because I’m terrified for their lives if they even so much as brush against my hand. All I can think about right now is having you put your arms around me and tell me it’s all going to be alright.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile, but it quickly faded. “And then I think about what happened with Sam, how I could do that to you, and I…” Sniffing, she dropped her gaze, swept her hand across her cheek, then shook her head. “If it works, no more demon in me. If it fails, I’m in the same boat and I’ll keep sailing. If I die...well, so be it.” Karma didn’t say anything else; she just looked at him with a conviction he envied more than a little. The resolve he saw in those deep blue pools told him there was nothing anyone would do to dissuade her.

Dean had no idea what to say. He couldn’t argue her logic, and it was her life. She was free to do with it what she wanted. He and Sam had clashed often enough about his insistence on taking these kinds of choices out of people’s hands, especially Sam’s. Sighing, he took a good look at her, thinking  _ Man, she looks so small right now. I feel like I’d break her if I squeezed her too hard. _ But he had to do something.

Slowly, he moved alongside her chair and gently, carefully, wrapped his arms around her, taking great pains to ensure he kept his hands on her robe. Dean pulled her against him so that her head rested on his shirt. At first, she tensed, but after a moment, he felt Karma relax against him. He held her a little tighter, then she took a deep breath and pulled away from him, giving him a small smile before resuming her quiet watch on the night outside. He turned to go, getting halfway across the room before she spoke up again. “Dean? Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah”

“This all actually comes out ok and I lose my demon, you want a rematch?” She glanced at him out of the side of her eye, once again snarky Karma, reverting to inappropriate humor to avoid dealing with uncomfortable emotions.  _ You should know... _

Dean chuckled. “It’d be my pleasure.”

Karma arched an eyebrow at that. “If you expect to beat your brother, it had better be mine.”

“Honey, the neighbors three blocks over are going to know my name after I’m done with you,” he shot over his shoulder as he left her bedroom. 

“Promises, promises.”

Shaking his head, Dean grabbed their gear and shouldered the bags, deciding to let her get the last word this time. As he stowed their stuff in the back of the car, he saw Sam was passed out and breathed a sigh of relief.  _ One less thing to worry about. Now I just need to figure out where we’re going to-- _ A chirp from his phone interrupted his thoughts. He looked and saw a message from Karma:  _ Almost forgot--Marriott in downtown Silver Spring. Have a room reserved for you under Black & Cullen. Least I can do. NO ARGUING! _

Dean smiled, then sent a message back:  _ Regret that when I run up a ton of cable porn charges. _

Karma responded:  _ So THAT’S why you got Sam drunk.  _

Another shake of his head. Dean didn’t message back but he did wave at her window. He got into the car, turned the engine over, and drove off, wondering how much he’d have to tip a guy to help him carry Sam into the room.


End file.
